


Under the Knife

by Sariasprincy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angry Sex, Assassination Attempt(s), Blood, Coercion, Cooking, Desk Sex, F/M, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Mafia AU, Manipulation, Masturbation, Murder, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Sex Dream, Stabbing, Stalking, Surgeon!Sakura, Surgery, Violence, female masturbating, mafia, mobster!madara, multiple kidnappings, surgery in non-ideal places
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 104,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23156953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sariasprincy/pseuds/Sariasprincy
Summary: In the shadows of the deepest part of the city, there is a place not even Death dare lurks. That is where you can find him. The Mob Boss of the city. The man who controls everything. Including her very life. That is where you will find Uchiha Madara. [Mobster!Madara x Surgeon!Sakura]
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 688
Kudos: 685





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For @madasakuweek March 2020 (tumblr)
> 
> Warning - This fic will contain the following: blood, violence, gun violence, torture, manipulation, coercion, and graphic depictions of murder. If any of these are triggering or make you uncomfortable, please do not proceed. You have been warned.

**_Under the Knife_  
MadaSaku**

**Chapter One  
Prompt: Abducted**

Of all the ways Sakura thought her Wednesday night would end, it was not like this. After getting out of a ten-hour trauma surgery, she had planned on pouring a large glass of wine, curling up on her sofa with a good book and falling asleep before finishing the first chapter. Not by being thrown into the back of an unknown town car by a bunch of rough-looking men.

They had grabbed her out of her own staff parking lot at the hospital, squishing her between them to keep her from trying to escape out the doors. She didn’t know who they were, but the handguns on their hips had kept her from asking from too many questions. They looked mean and ready to prove their strength at any given second.

The only thing that seemed to be keeping them back was the well-dressed and otherwise handsome man that sat across from them. He wore an expensive wristwatch and a tailored suit that wrapped around his lithe, and undoubtedly, strong body. He had dark eyes and a mane of dark hair that made his pale complexion even paler but no less stunning. Sakura had seen plenty of kidnapping stories on the news during her breaks on shift, but she was pretty sure kidnappers weren’t supposed to be this attractive. For some reason, that set her further on edge.

He had only glanced at her twice after her abduction, but he held himself with an air of confidence that made it clear that his word was the one that mattered.

Like a cornered animal, Sakura curled up in the center seat with her purse clutched to her chest. She tried to make herself as small as possible, as if they might forget she was there all together. No one had said a word to her since entering the car, except for the man on her right who had warned her only once to keep quiet. She was too frightened to disobey.

Her mind raced through the reasons of why she might be there. She had no family, no money. She was no one. Well, almost no one. She was the city hospital’s newest trauma surgeon. But she had no money for a ransom. She made a decent pay check, but the majority went to her medical school bills and insurance payments. She was comfortable, but not as well off as the man in front of her seemed to be.

The inside of the vehicle was silent as they drove, the roll of rubber against the road filling the quiet until they eventually arrived at the International District. The car slowed as they approached what appeared to be an abandoned fish market.

As soon as the car pulled to a stop, the driver hopped out and opened the back door. The man in charge exited first before the guards slipped out. When she made no move to follow, one reached back in and grabbed her wrist. Her survival instincts kicked in.

“No! Let me go!”

For a minute, she struggled with the man until he hauled her from the inside of the vehicle and slammed her back hard enough against the side of the car to nearly knock the breath from her lungs.

The man in charge stepped forward then, making a vague gesture to his man to release her. Still holding her purse to her chest, Sakura peered up at him, not sure if he was going to rape her or cut straight to just killing her. After all, she had seen most of it already in her new position at the hospital.

“Dr. Haruno,” he spoke, his voice calm in comparison to her frantically beating heart. “We require your presence. The more you cooperate, the easier this will be.”

Sakura gripped her purse tighter, as if that would protect her from what may happen next. “I don’t understand. What do you want with me?”

“Our intentions will be made clear soon. Please, come.”

It was clearly an order, but she still hesitated as her escort turned and made his way inside. At least until a guard grabbed the front of her jacket near her collar and yanked her off the car. Sakura’s struggles renewed, but she wasn’t given the opportunity to escape as her captors grabbed her by the arms and forcefully made her follow.

They dragged her through the empty fish market, the sour smell of old seafood flooding her nose and mouth, and into a large backroom that was perhaps bigger than the market itself. Like going through the wardrobe into Narnia, the guards forcefully pushed her into a well-furnished room with lush carpets and hardwood floors. There were expensive paintings on the wall and handcrafted wooden feet on the couches and armchairs.

Around a large, varnished table were a handful of men looking over something she couldn’t see. Everyone was seated, some with a glass of fine whiskey in their hands or cigars hanging from their mouths. The smell made her nose scrunch up.

On the far side of the room, a man was bent over the side of the couch. Whatever he was looking at she couldn’t see, but her attention turned as her escort approached another man.

The pair looked alike with their dark hair and even darker eyes. Even their high cheekbones and strong jawlines were similar. Perhaps an older cousin or brother. He was dressed just as finely, but there was an air of absolute authority and command about him that made even her escort look small. It seemed she had been wrong. Whoever he was, _he_ was definitely in charge.

Without looking up from his phone, this new boss listened vaguely as her escort spoke in a murmured voice. Their conversation was indecipherable amongst the quiet chatter throughout the rest of the room, but her escort must have said something important for the man in charge glanced at him before turning his sights on her.

Sakura felt as if a set of crosshairs had just fixed upon her. A chill went down her spine, but she wasn’t given the chance to run before the guards shoved her forward until she was half-standing, half-cowering before this new boss.

“Dr. Haruno Sakura, I presume,” he said. His voice was smooth and easy as if he were discussing the full moon that were out tonight.

It made Sakura bristle and she glared up at him with more bravery than she actually felt. “Who the hell are you? And how dare you kidnap me on my very own hospital property.”

The man before her was hardly fazed by her tone. He simply inclined his head minutely. “I apologize. Where are my manners? My name is Madara. And this is my brother, Izuna,” he told her.

Her escort bowed his head slightly as if his politeness now would excuse his abrupt abduction of her only twenty minutes ago.

A scowl crossed her face. “What the hell do you want?”

“Simple really,” Madara said, turning away to approach a nearby dry sink bar. On one side was a crystal glass of whiskey that he unstoppered before he filled a pristine glass. Only once he had resealed the expensive liquor did he turn back to her. “I require your skill.”

Sakura blinked in bewilderment. “My skill?” she parroted.

“Your surgical ability,” he clarified.

“What about it?”

“It seems we had a small altercation this evening,” Madara told her before taking a sip. “The Senju are becoming quite an issue for us.”

Sakura said nothing, but her expression must have expressed her continued confusion. It was like he was speaking another language.

Madara simply gestured to her. “Come.”

Knowing she would be forced to follow either way, Sakura trailed some paces behind him, her eyes darting from his back to Izuna before returning to Madara again. He stopped in front of the couch, one hand in his pocket, the other lifting his drink to his lips before he gestured towards the couch with his whiskey.

"It seems my nephews, Itachi and Shisui, may have crossed paths with a less than amiable Senju tonight. Such aggressive, violent people. Shisui needs urgent medical attention."

Now that she was standing before them, Sakura understood what was wrong. One man, apparently Shisui, was laying on the couch with blood gushing from a wound in his shoulder. It was hard to see the extent of the damage from where she stood, especially with Itachi pressing a bloodied towel to the area, but it was obvious the injury needed to be seen to immediately.

Then something crossed Sakura’s mind. Senju – she knew that name. She had heard it on the news and read about them in the newspaper whenever a violent crime had been committed within the city. There were only ever rumors, but Sakura had worked trauma in the city long enough to know there was an Underground that dealt in weapons, drugs and women.

If the Senju were Madara’s enemy, that would mean him and these men were of the Uchiha family. In other words, _mafia_. And Shisui was likely suffering from a bullet wound.

Her fingers itched to help him. Every nerve in her body was yelling at her to go assess the damage and fix it, but she was also aware the instant she touched him, she would be bound to these men. There would be no escape.

"I won't do this," Sakura said, her eyes still glued to the man bleeding on the couch. "I won't get involved."

Like someone had abruptly raised the needle on a record player, the room went utterly silent. Even the men around the polished table stopped what they were doing. The sudden stillness pressed down on her like a physical weight, forcing her heart into the pit of her stomach. She swallowed thickly as her eyes darted around the room. The hair on the back of her neck prickled when she found everyone was watching her, cigars and whiskey halfway to their mouths as they paused to see how this would play out.

Itachi, who was still bent over Shisui and applying pressure to his gunshot wound, was openly glaring at her. He looked as if he wanted nothing more than to hold her at gunpoint until she agreed to help. Which she realized was likely not far from the truth.

It was Madara who broke the silence. "I understand your reluctance," he said, causing her gaze to flicker back to him abruptly.

Both his tone and expression were calm, almost friendly, but she got the distinct impression it was all a front. After all, this man was the head of one of the most dangerous mobs in the country. And he wouldn't take no for an answer.

He stepped towards her, his black, perfectly polished, cap toe shoes clacking sharply against the hardwood floor. Each step was like a clock slowly ticking away the seconds left of her life, until Madara stood before her like Death himself.

Sakura shrunk under his towering form and gripped her purse tighter to her chest. He stood at least a head taller, forcing her to crane her neck back to meet his dark, obsidian gaze. He was a handsome man, at least a decade or more older than her, but the mild lines around his mouth and eyes only made her realize that as much violence as she had seen in her career, he had seen more. He had likely caused it too.

"I will only ask once,” Madara said calmly. “And you do not wish to know the consequences should you refuse."

Sakura inhaled a silent but shaky breath as her gaze briefly returned to the bleeding man on the couch. His face was pinched in obvious pain, his complexion pale as he breathed through clenched teeth. Itachi was holding pressure to the wound, but his gaze was focused on her, his eyes sharp like he was just waiting for the order to kill her should she say no. Behind Madara, Izuna stood only a few feet away, a similar expression on his face.

She only had one choice.

Flickering her gaze back to Madara, she asked, her voice coming out with a small waver, "And what happens to me after I do as you ask?"

"That depends on the condition in which Shisui is in when you are finished.”

She didn't have to ask to know what he meant. The only way she got out of this alive was if Shisui survived.

After a hesitation that seemed to stretch on for a lifetime, Sakura gave Madara a weak nod. "I'll need some tools."

Madara casually turned to Itachi then as if he hadn't just threatened her very life. "Get Dr. Haruno what she needs. You will assist her as she sees fit."

To her surprise, the glare was gone from Itachi’s face when she turned back to him. In fact, there was no emotion in his expression at all. She didn't know which she preferred, but she wasn't given the opportunity to decide before Madara turned and made his way towards a door in the back of the room, his expensive shoes clacking against the hardwood. He threw her one parting message over his shoulder.

"You better get started."

xx

As quickly as the madness had begun, it ended. Sakura did what Madara had asked. She had dug the bullet out of Shisui's arm and stitched him back together before starting him on a course of antibiotics. Then Madara's men, this time with the absence of Izuna, had dropped her off on her apartment building's doorstep as if nothing had ever happened.

That had been over a month ago.

Since then, Sakura had done her best to move on as if the incident had never happened. She went to work as usual before heading home, most of the time catching a ride with her best friend and fellow surgeon, Naruto. She doubted his presence would keep the mafia at bay, but she felt safer than when she was by herself. Still, she couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder, as if expecting to find a shadow everywhere she turned.

Tonight was an exception. Naruto had left for home some hours ago while Sakura stayed behind to review a case. She had a high-profile surgery tomorrow and the latest labs for her patient weren’t what she was hoping.

After ordering more tests and pushing more drugs, she finally got the results she wanted. Just in time for her to go home and catch a few hours of sleep before returning to the hospital in the morning.

Yawning, Sakura shrugged on her peacoat. She grabbed her purse from her locker before she closed it and left the quiet attendings’ lounge. There were a few messages waiting for her when she finally checked her device for the first time in hours, including one from Naruto asking if she was home yet.

Smiling faintly, Sakura shot him off a quick reply that she was on her way now. The rest of the messages could wait until later. She slipped her phone into her pocket before she searched for her car keys.

Only to halt abruptly halfway to her vehicle when she realized there was a shadow leaning against the back door. In the lighting of the parking lot, all she could see was a young man dressed in a nice suit with a flashy watch and curly hair.

Shisui.

Sakura didn’t wait to see if he noticed her. She turned sharply, about to escape back into the hospital, when she ran into a wall. No, not a wall. A firm chest.

“Going somewhere?” Itachi asked.

Sakura opened her mouth, but before she could cry for help, he clamped a strong hand over her lips and leaned down to whisper, “Scream and you will regret it.”

She got the vague impression he wanted nothing more than for her to give him an excuse, but she bit down on her tongue sharply even as she shrunk under his towering presence. He didn’t give her the chance to try anything else before a town car skidded to a stop beside them.

Itachi opened the door and shoved her inside without regard for her comfort. She nearly landed on her face, only just catching herself with her hands. Automatically, she scrambled for the door on the other side, but before she could reach it, Shisui opened it and slipped inside. She was effectively trapped.

Backpedaling, Sakura crawled into the corner of the back-facing bench. Neither Itachi nor Shisui paid her any mind as they settled in. As soon as their doors were closed, the car began to move.

Sakura didn’t bother asking questions. She suspected they were heading towards where they had taken her before. Once again, she pushed herself into the corner of the seat, hoping to make herself as small as possible.

Itachi didn’t even glance at her as he scrolled through his phone, his expression akin to boredom as if she was his annoying little sister his parents had made him pick up from school. Shisui, on the other hand, wouldn’t take his eyes off her.

His arms were crossed loosely over his chest as he chewed on a piece of gum slowly. She eyed him at first as she wondered how well his wound had healed. Then she noticed his expression. It was friendly enough, but she didn’t think she liked the way the corner of his mouth was curved into a hint of a smirk or how his gaze was just a little too unwavering. He didn’t even seem to blink.

Unconsciously, Sakura flinched and turned her sights out the window. The city passed by rapidly as the car flew down the highway. They took an exit into the downtown and drove through a number of winding streets until even Sakura didn’t know where they were. Eventually they pulled into a garage and parked the car.

Itachi and Shisui both exited. When Sakura didn’t immediately follow, she heard Itachi’s voice from outside, “You have three seconds to get out on your own or I will assist you.”

She didn’t wait for him to start counting. She hurried out of the car with her purse in hand. Itachi shot her a look as if to say _‘there, wasn’t that better?’_ before he turned and continued further into the garage. A silent command for her to follow.

Swallowing, Sakura didn’t dare refuse him. She had felt the hard metal of his gun when she had body slammed into him in the hospital lot and she doubted he kept it on him just for show.

Now that she had a chance to look around, she realized they weren’t in a normal parking garage. It was a loading dock. Like the kind transport trucks and vans used to deliver shipments for the offices in the building. In the middle of the bay was a large area where trucks backed in to unload their shipments onto a higher platform before they were taken into the freight elevators.

Only there weren’t any vehicles now. Just two other town cars off to the side like the one she had been kidnapped in. Again.

In one of the parking stalls was a man bound to a chair. Another man stood over him, his knuckles bloody and torn from delivering blow after audible blow. Each smack made Sakura wince. She hoped with every fiber of her being that she wasn’t next.

A second man stood beside him, his hands less damaged, but blood speckled the front of his white shirt. She didn’t recognize either man, but a few paces behind them was Izuna.

He was watching the event take place before him with a passive expression, but it shifted slightly when he glanced up at the sound of their footsteps. He eyed Sakura silently before his gaze briefly flickered up to the unloading platform above them.

Sakura followed it to find Madara standing at the railing as he supervised. He looked like an emperor overseeing his subjects in his black, iron-pressed pants. He wore a matching black vest over a white button-up shirt. The suit of his jacket hung over his shoulders, his hands in his pockets.

The first time they had met, Madara’s arms had been covered. Now, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. His forearms were littered with tattoos. So much so that she couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. There was more ink than skin.

He was listening to one of his men speak a few paces behind him, but his dark, dark eyes tracked their movements as Sakura ascended the stairs with Itachi and Shisui at her heels. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, hoping no one would see how badly she was shaking. She had hoped after their last meeting, she would be left alone if she did her job well. She didn’t know what Madara wanted from her now.

As soon as they reached the top step, Madara dismissed his man. Sakura tried to swallow back her fear, but she knew even with his back turned Madara could sense it. He was like a shark who could smell blood in the water.

“Good evening, Dr. Haruno. I hope you had a pleasant trip,” Madara greeted.

There was a vague hint of friendliness in his tone as if he actually cared how her car ride was. It made her anger briefly overpower her terror.

“If you call being manhandled into the back of a car pleasant, then sure,” she retorted coolly.

For a moment, Sakura wondered if she had pushed him too far already with her sharp reply when Madara turned around. He seemed to scrutinize her before his eyes landed on the pair behind her.

“Gentleman, I thought I made it clear you were to treat the Doctor with respect,” he said. His tone was calm enough but there was a hint of ice that made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. And she wasn’t even on the receiving end.

Itachi’s glare burned a hole into her back, but she refused to look behind her.

“She was treated fairly enough, given her uncooperative behavior,” Itachi said indifferently.

Madara eyed them a moment before his gaze returned to her, his expression once more an apathetic mask. “My apologies, but we do in fact need your assistance once more this evening. There was a small incident an hour ago that we do not need to go into the details of. All you need to know is one of our men sustained a severe injury. He was stabbed in the abdomen with a blade.”

At the end of his assessment, Madara’s gaze turned towards the far side of the wall. Sakura followed it to find a group of men huddled together she hadn’t noticed until now. They were standing around a makeshift bed that consisted of an old table covered with moving pads. The top blanket was dark blue, but the side of it was stained almost black with what she could only guess was blood.

The doctor in her zoned in on the injury, trying to assess the damage from where she stood. From her distance, it was impossible to tell what condition the man was in. The only thing she was certain of was that he was much worse off than Shisui had been. This man was likely in critical condition. She would need more than just a couple of tools.

As if it had just occurred to her where she was, Sakura peered about the loading dock. It was dirty. And not just because the scent of blood lingered in the air. There were pools of stagnant water in the corners of the room, left over from the rainstorm the night before. Cockroaches scurried from one crate to another and everything seemed to be coated in a fine layer of dust. At least when she had stitched up Shisui, they had been in a cleaner environment.

Sakura shook her head in exasperation. “I work in a hospital with unlimited resources and equipment, and a team of trained staff. What exactly do you expect me to do here?”

When she turned back to Madara she found he was watching her with an utterly blank expression. He didn’t look angry, but she got the impression she would have to watch her tongue and how she addressed him in front of his subordinates more carefully moving forward. Lest she preferred being the city’s best _dead_ trauma surgeon.

“I expect you to do your very best to save him,” Madara told her like a parent chiding their child.

Even though she wanted nothing more than to shrink away from his towering form, she couldn’t stop herself from frowning in frustration. “You said you would leave me alone after helping Shisui.”

“I said you would be released. Not that you wouldn’t be called upon in the future as our needs arise.”

Scraping together all the bravery she could muster, she shook her head. “I won’t do this again.”

Madara’s expression didn’t exactly change, but a shadow seemed to flicker behind his eyes like when a bird or airplane briefly flew in front of the sun. He said nothing, but a faint click from Itachi had her glancing over her shoulder.

He had drawn his gun. It wasn’t pointed at her, but the threat was clear. Far clearer than it had ever been before.

She clung to the last bit of her quickly dissolving courage as she returned her gaze to Madara. “If you kill me, he will die.”

Well eventually at least. If they hurried and got him to the hospital, he might still survive, but his chances were growing slimmer and slimmer with each passing second. They were wasting time. And Madara knew it.

“The same offer I provided to you with Shisui applies now,” he told her.

Meaning the only way she survived was if the man did too.

“And after that, you’ll leave me alone?” she asked, trying her best to keep her voice from wavering.

Perhaps she was pressing her luck, but if she didn’t stand her ground, these men would walk all over her. Some silent thought passed behind Madara’s eyes, but it was gone so quickly she wondered if she had imagined it. Then he gave her his ultimatum.

“If he survives, we can discuss it further.”

It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it was all Madara was willing to give her at that time. She held his gaze for one moment that seemed to stretch on for hours and then another before she gave a silent but frustrated sigh and got to work.

Sakura didn’t know how long she stood over the man – the gangster – as she attempted to stem the bleeding. He had been stabbed in the upper right quadrant of the abdominal cavity. She knew for sure his liver had been nicked, but judging by his poor breathing, she suspected the lower portion of his lung had been pierced as well.

If she had an ultrasound or any medical piece of equipment other than a single scalpel and some crappy sutures, she might be able to save him, but as each second passed, she could feel his life slipping away. And with it, hers.

Another warm gush of blood slid down the back of Sakura’s hand and down her arm before collecting on the sleeve of her shirt. The material was dyed red, but the deep crimson turned it nearly black everywhere it touched.

She paid it no mind. Her entire focus centered on how she could possibly delay this man’s death. He had been in terrible agony when she had first started, but as the blood continued to stain her hands and the moving pad beneath him, he had quickly lost consciousness. She didn’t even know if he would want saving at this point. The muscles were sliced clean through, his liver had damage and she would be lucky to save his lung. His quality of life would be terrible. But she had to try. Because her life depended upon it too.

“Fuck,” Sakura cursed.

She grabbed a large wad of bandages from the little medical kit they had provided her and began shoving gauze inside the hole in the man’s chest. She didn’t know if they were sanitary at this point, but she was far past the ability to care. She had to do something to stop the bleeding.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shisui asked somewhere over her shoulder. She had been left in his and Itachi’s charge.

Sakura didn’t look up as she continued her work. “I’m packing the injury. This is beyond what I can do here. He needs a hospital.”

“That’s not an option.”

“That’s the only option if you want him to live!” she retorted.

Shisui might have said something else, but she was no longer listening for she glanced at her patient to find he was no longer breathing. Another long string of curses slipped between her lips before she placed her palms on the man’s chest and began compressions.

Somewhere very far in the back of her mind, she knew it was useless. But the louder, even more urgent voice yelled at her to keep going. If not for him, then for herself.

She put all her strength and energy into her compressions. She pushed down until his ribs cracked and his cartilage crunched beneath her hands. The seconds stretched onto minutes and the minutes into what felt like hours until Sakura’s arms ached. Her body quit before her mind gave the option.

Numb, her hands stilled over his chest. Her eyes drifted over the now-deceased man’s face. He was grey. Whatever blood might still be circling from her attempted CPR was pooling in his abdominal cavity and seeping through the gauze she had shoved into his side.

Utterly spent, Sakura stepped back from the table only for her knees to give out on her. She would have collapsed to the floor hard enough to bruise if it hadn’t been for the pair of hands that helped soften her fall. She didn’t know who it was. She didn’t dare look at them. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man on the table.

He was dead. Which meant only one thing: she would follow shortly.

Sakura’s gaze dropped to her hands. They were stained crimson, wet and sticky, but they didn’t tremble. They never shook. No matter how stressed she was. And given the circumstances, she was under a great deal at the moment.

As soon as Madara learned of her failure, he would kill her. She wondered if he would be merciful with a simple bullet to the back of her skull; or would he make her suffer a slow, painful death before he dumped her in some ditch on the outskirts of town?

Sakura couldn’t move. She wondered if her body even remembered how to. She just sat there. It could have been a minute. It could have been a year. Then she heard the sharp clip of Madara’s exclusive, polished shoes. Her eyes didn’t leave her hands as he stopped a pace behind her. She barely dared to breathe as he delivered his verdict.

“Itachi, dispose of this,” he ordered. Then the longest pause in the world followed before he finally said, “Shisui…take her home.”

Amazed, Sakura turned her gaze up to Madara slowly as she tried to process if she had just heard him correctly. He simply stared down at her. His expression was utterly unreadable, but for a moment she thought she saw the slightest shift of something behind his eyes. She couldn’t be sure, but he turned and walked away before she could look closer.

Stunned, Sakura didn’t move as his footsteps faded away. She likely would have sat there forever had Shisui not finally reached down and helped her to her feet. The real world felt so far away. Like she was seeing everything through water. She barely remembered being guided into the car.

The next thing she knew, she was standing in front of her apartment door, her shirt and hands still stained with blood. Not even the hottest shower could seem to scrub it all away.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So begins another mafia au. I had planned to step away from it for a little while with the completion of Hollow Point, but then this idea wouldn't leave me alone. Sorry/not sorry.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter Two  
Prompt: Hunted_ **

The rain pelted the windows. Sakura watched it beat a steady rhythm against the pane, a soothing sound in the otherwise busy city. It reminded her of home and her childhood. She had grown up over a hundred miles north of the city, where the trees were thick and the clouds hung low in the canopies. There was so much color there from the bright green grass to the blue-tinted moss hanging from the branches. It made this grey, grey concrete jungle seem even more colorless.

Stifling a yawn, Sakura turned her gaze from the drizzle outside. She sipped her now-lukewarm coffee before she peered about the coffee shop. There were only two workers behind the coffee bar. One was ringing up a customer while the other made his order behind the coffee machine. It hissed sharply as it warmed up a cup of milk. A businesswoman sat in the corner, her fingers flying across her keyboard as she worked, while a man in his early twenties sat three tables away with his phone in one hand and his coffee in the other.

No one paid any mind to her. Which was exactly why Sakura had decided to come here. It was one of the few times she got any peace. She loved her job and she loved her friends, but it was rare when she was actually allowed a few, uninterrupted minutes to herself.

The sun was already dipping below the city skyline. It peeked out beneath the high, wet clouds, casting an orange hue over the streets. Sakura watched the raindrops on the window turn gold in the setting sun until her phone pinged softly.

It was a message from Ino, her best friend since college. She was attempting for the sixth time that day to get Sakura to go out with her tonight. If it was to the bar, Sakura likely would have joined, but clubbing was not high on her priority list when this was the first night in eight nights Sakura hadn’t been stuck performing surgery. No, tonight she would be relaxing with a very large glass of wine.

Smiling, Sakura told Ino that, not for the first time.

They bantered back and forth for a while until Sakura finished her coffee. She collected her things, pausing at the garbage to toss her trash before she made her way back out into the streets. They were fairly empty. With no weekend traffic, the cars moved smoothly through the lights.

Fortunately, the rain had slowed. She had accidentally grabbed a jacket without a hood and she had no umbrella to protect her from the sprinkle. At least the trolley stop was nearby.

Sakura paused when she reached the corner of the intersection. She glanced one way down the street and waited for an approaching truck to pass before she made ready to cross. Only to still when she saw a familiar town car with an even more familiar man standing across the way.

_Madara._

He was dressed as usual in an expensive, perfectly tailored suit and even though the rain had lightened, he held a dark umbrella above his head, keeping himself dry. He looked so powerful and darkly attractive like he was doing a photoshoot for the _Business Insider_ magazine.

At his abrupt appearance, adrenaline pumped through Sakura’s system so sharply it nearly made her dizzy. She would have turned and ran but it was as if every muscle in her body had gone into rigor mortis. She couldn’t move. She wasn’t even sure if she was still breathing.

Madara simply met her gaze. That simple look told her everything. He was waiting for her.

As if she was slowly thawing out from a block of ice, Sakura’s ability to move came back to her bit-by-bit. She glanced down the street again. She didn’t see Itachi or Shisui anywhere, but the memory of last time she had tried to run was still fresh in her mind. Madara didn’t look angry, but he might very easily become so if she tried to flee.

Taking a deep breath, Sakura forced herself to meet him. It felt more like crossing the River Styx into the Underworld.

“Dr. Haruno,” Madara greeted.

“What do you want?”

“What a horribly unpleasant greeting.”

She hadn’t meant to blurt the words out, but he made her nervous and put her on edge like no one ever had before. His expression didn’t change but his gaze was unwavering and it took all of Sakura’s willpower not to flinch.

Swallowing, she tried again. “You told me the last time we meant that if I did what you said you would leave me alone.”

“I do not appreciate being called a liar,” Madara said. A small frown tugged the corners of his mouth down as his voice took on a sharper tone. “I told you if he were to survive, we would discuss it further. I am here to discuss it.”

He reached over then and opened the backdoor to the town car. Automatically her gaze swept over the interior. There was no one else inside. He was alone.

“Please come in. Let us chat more comfortably.”

His voice changed then. She wouldn’t quite call it warm, but there was something less stern and commanding about it. His umbrella had done its job in keeping him dry, but Sakura’s jacket and hair were damp, and the cool breeze was beginning to chill her. She could feel the heat coming from the inside of the vehicle, but she didn’t move. She had been held against her will twice in these cars.

“I’m fine here. I won’t be a part of your organization,” she told him sternly.

Perhaps it was because they were still standing on the sidewalk that she felt brave. Like she still had the ability to flee. Whether that was true or not, she didn’t know. She wouldn’t put it past Madara to have his men stationed in every building, just waiting to grab her should she run. And until Madara became more agitated she was willing to stand her ground.

If Madara was offended by her refusal, he didn’t show it. He merely dropped his hand on the door handle to face her once more.

“That is exactly what I am here to discuss. I am here to settle our debt.”

Her tough act fell and gave way to confusion. “Our debt?”

Madara reached into his suit and withdrew an envelope that he handed to her. She accepted it after a moment’s hesitation before she opened it and slid out the piece of paper inside. It was a check. Addressed to her in the amount of _thirty thousand dollars??_

Sakura’s eyes widened. Her mind began to race. This could pay off a chunk of her student loans. She could move into a bigger apartment, one in the city and closer to the hospital. But then it dawned on her what this would mean. She would be taking money from one of the most dangerous criminals in the city. She would be bound to him, perhaps permanently. This was the opposite of leaving her alone.

“I don’t want your blood money,” Sakura all but growled. She shoved the check back into the envelope before she half-crumpled it and threw it inside the car.

Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest thing to say to a Mob Boss, but she didn’t want his money binding them together for the rest of her life.

A small frowned appeared in the corner of Madara’s mouth as if she had just insulted him. Which likely wasn’t far from the truth, but when he spoke his voice was calm and collected.

“This is not blood money, Dr. Haruno. You have done my family a favor. This is simply a payment to square up our debt.”

Sakura chewed the inside of her mouth as she considered that. Madara sounded sincere, but she had witnessed a portion of how brutal the mafia could be. Maybe fifty or a hundred years ago, they believed in repaying debts and having honor, but now they were crueler and more ruthless. She didn’t think she trusted Madara.

Sakura was still weighing all this out in her mind when she heard a sudden screech of tires. She turned just in time to see a car rapidly approach from down the street before a series of loud pops filled the air and glass exploded around them.

Sakura wasn’t given the chance to run for cover as Madara grabbed her by the jacket and threw her down onto the floor of his town car. He landed on top of her as someone nearby screamed in pure terror. Dozens of sharp cracks filled the air as shrapnel rained down upon them. Sakura curled up into the tiniest ball she could make as she covered her ears, hoping whoever was screaming would stop soon.

The bullets lasted for only a few seconds and an entire year at the same time. It wasn’t until they stopped that she realized the shrieking was coming from herself. She heard the screech of tires as the car sped away, but she didn’t dare get up. Even if Madara’s weight wasn’t still pinning her down, she couldn’t move. She had been turned to stone.

Then she heard the distant scream of sirens in the distance. She thought that might stir Madara into moving, but when he continued to lay on top of her, she finally glanced over her shoulder to peer at him. There was glass and pieces of interior in his hair. His eyes were closed and he was breathing quietly.

No, not quietly. Shallowly.

Carefully, Sakura slipped out from under him, her hands crunching against the glass on the floor. His suit was torn, but otherwise he looked fine. At least until she rolled him over. His white button-up shirt was turning red near his shoulder and quickly.

With frantic hands, Sakura ripped the material away to find a large wound below his collarbone. It was a mess of torn skin and blood. She didn’t know if it was shrapnel or bullet fragments. If he was lucky, they had missed his heart. If he wasn’t, he would be dead within the next few minutes.

“Hey, driver!” Sakura shouted. “He’s been injured! We need to get to a hospital!”

When she didn’t get an answer, she climbed onto the back-facing seat and peered through the divider. She nearly lost the contents of her stomach. The driver was hunched over the wheel, a bullet wound through his skull. She may be a surgeon, but there was something about witnessing the trauma on-scene that made her suddenly queasy.

In that moment, the urge to run overcame Sakura. She bolted towards the open door only to pause on the sidewalk as she looked back. If she left now, Madara would die. The doctor in her reared its head at that thought; of her walking away without even attempting to help.

Then her gaze caught the crumpled check in the corner. She wondered if the rest of his family would blame her. She thought of Itachi and Izuna. She didn’t doubt they would come after her. They likely wouldn’t even hear her out before they killed her. Or worse, tortured and then killed her.

Swallowing thickly, Sakura made her choice. She slammed Madara’s door shut before she ran around to the driver’s side. Trying her best not to look, Sakura shoved the dead man as far over towards the passenger seat as she could. Then she started the engine and took off, the scream of sirens only a few blocks behind her.

xx

Sakura didn’t quite know where she was going. She knew she couldn’t take Madara to a hospital, but he needed serious medical attention. She sped down the city streets, almost wandering aimlessly until she remembered the urgent clinic a few blocks away.

She usually directed patients there when the ER was overcrowded. It was a smaller office, but the owner knew how to deal with the less urgent medical procedures. And it was sundown on a Saturday; he would already have closed up for the day. It would be empty.

When Sakura reached the clinic, she drove by slowly, ensuring the lights inside were off before she pulled around back. The backdoor was locked, but she found the spare key in an old potted plant nearby. Not very secure in her personal opinion, but given the circumstances she wasn’t going to complain. She grabbed a wheelchair from the hallway before she struggled to drop Madara into it, his bloodied side staining her arm bright red.

Inside, there were two examination rooms and one small procedure room. She brought Madara to the latter and after flicking on the light, she used all her strength to settle him on the bed. Then she got to work.

She pulled a pair of scissors from the drawer and cut his shirt off. Under the bright, florescent lighting, she got her first good look at the wound. It looked like hamburger meat, but nothing seemed to have hit anything vital, given the fact he hadn’t bled to death in the back of the car.

After shuffling through the drawers for more equipment, Sakura set up an IV before she began gathering gauze, a scalpel and a half dozen other tools. She was just grabbing the last few things she needed when she heard the lock on the front door suddenly slide out of place before the bell above it chimed.

Stilling, Sakura held her breath. There was the echo of footsteps, followed by the murmur of one-sided conversation as though someone were talking on the phone. She didn’t dare move and for the first time, it occurred to her that she might have been followed. That whoever it was that had tried so hard to kill them had followed her here. It wouldn’t exactly have been hard.

Grabbing her scalpel, Sakura tiptoed towards the doorway. She peered out, but it was hard to pinpoint where the person was with her heartbeat thudding in her ears. She thought she heard the phone call end followed by the rustling of papers, then all fell quiet.

A shadow flickered in the corner of her eyes and she turned a moment too late, her scalpel raised–

“Whoa, what the hell! Sakura?”

All the adrenaline in her veins turned to warm relief as she recognized the figure. “Oh, thank God, Kakashi.”

He stepped closer as she lowered her scalpel-turned-weapon, his expression obviously confused when he came closer to the light. “What’re you doing here? We closed almost three hours ago.”

Sakura opened her mouth, only to close it again. What was she supposed to say? ‘I broke in to heal the Boss of one of the most dangerous mafias in the country after we were shot at’?

Fortunately, or perhaps not so fortunately, she was saved from answering when Kakashi looked at her face. “What happened to you? You’re covered in blood.” Then he looked past her into the procedure room. “Who is that?”

She hesitated. She knew Kakashi somewhat well. They had worked together in her last hospital before he had left to open this very clinic. He was a good surgeon and a good person. She hated putting him in this position.

“He…he’s been shot,” she said instead. “He needs surgery.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Kakashi said incredulously. “Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?”

“I can’t,” she told him, her voice suddenly soft.

He tore his eyes away from where Madara was laying on the table to look at her. Really look at her. In that moment, Sakura realized she must look like hell. There was blood on her hands and staining her white jacket, and she likely had glass and other shrapnel in her hair. It was obvious she had just been through something.

“Sakura, what are you involved in?” Kakashi finally asked quietly.

She shook her head. Because honestly, she didn’t even know. She was probably signing her own death certificate by being here with Madara now.

“The less you know the better, but please…I need your help. I can’t do this alone. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll even make sure your supplies get replaced. I’ll volunteer here for a month. Please, I just need your help and I need you to not ask any questions,” she rambled, as though afraid if she gave him a second to talk, he might deny her. Or worse, call the police.

Kakashi was silent for so long, she thought he just might. Then he glanced at Madara before he turned back to her and looked her dead in the eye. “Can you at least tell me that you’re safe?”

Of course, she wanted to reassure him and tell him ‘yes’, but the truth was she didn’t even know. She simply met his gaze and replied, “Please don’t ask any questions.”

Her answer obviously didn’t satisfy him, but there was nothing more she could say. Her knees nearly went weak in relief when he finally nodded. “Let’s get to work. He’s still losing blood.”

Nearly three hours later, Madara was starting to get some of his color back. They had removed three metal shards from below his collarbone. Somehow, they had all miraculously missed his heart and all major arteries around it. There was slight damage to his subclavian artery, but with Kakashi’s help – most importantly his knowledge of where the surgical tools were kept – they were able to not only stop the bleeding, but clear his thoracic cavity of any fluids.

Kakashi tried to help Sakura clean up their mess, but she convinced him to head home; that she would handle the rest. And she would.

In the inside pocket of his suit jacket, Sakura found Madara’s phone. She used his thumb print to unlock the screen. Unsurprisingly, he had over twenty missed calls. Some from Shisui and Itachi, some from a couple of names she didn’t recognize, but the majority were from Izuna. She hit call.

The other line barely rang once before Izuna answered, “Madara, where the hell have you been? I heard there was a shooting downtown, only a block away from where you were watching that doctor.”

His words caused a vein in her jaw to twitch and automatically her gaze shifted to where Madara was still resting. He was sedated and would be unconscious for another few hours. Plenty of time for her to do what she was about to do next.

“He’s alive,” Sakura said into the receiver.

On the other end, Izuna paused. “Dr. Haruno?”

“It’s me,” she confirmed. “Madara took some shrapnel to the chest, but he’s stable now.”

“Where are you?”

This time, Sakura hesitated as she carefully considered what she was about to say next. It was a gamble. But she was desperate. “I’m going to tell you where to find him, but first you’re going to agree to something.”

“Oh really? And what would that be?” he asked with a silky, soft tone like he was already planning how best to murder her.

Sakura forced herself not to lose her courage. “The clinic that Madara is at; you’re going to scrub it. I have a list of supplies I used to save his life. I want you to replace them. It’s going to be like we were never here. And then you’re going to leave me alone. You, Madara, Shisui and Itachi. All of you. No more tails, no more kidnappings. Am I clear?” she asked.

Izuna was silent. Sakura thought she had sounded calm and confident on the phone, but she wondered if he could feel her shaking. From the top of her head to the ends of her toes, she trembled out of exhaustion and fear and anger and a whole list of other emotions she felt but couldn’t name.

Then Izuna said, “Fine. We have a deal. Where is he?”

As soon as Sakura rattled off the address, she got the hell out of there. She left Madara’s phone on the counter, along with her inventory of supplies that needed to be replaced for Kakashi. Then she exited through the backdoor and ran down the dark stretch of road until the little clinic was far, far behind her.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to say this in the first chapter, but I am asking my readers NOT to leave kudos. I don't like receiving them. I feel they are insulting (that you would rather click a 'like' button than leave a comment).
> 
> To those of you who did leave me a comment, thank you very much!! I sincerely appreciate it. You are the reason I continue to update/post on AO3. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter Three  
Prompt: “You will not lay a finger on her.”_ **

A little more than a week later, Sakura realized she had a tail. She didn’t know if she was more annoyed or worried that Izuna had gone back on his word to leave her alone. Still, she went about her day as if nothing was wrong.

It was one of the few nights that Sakura had left the hospital before nightfall. The sun was already dipping below the tall, steel skyrises, but there was still a bit of blue left in the sky before it all turned to indigo and then black. 

She navigated through the waning rush hour traffic to the grocery store. Her eyes kept flickering back to her rearview mirror, but the black car that had been following her for some days now seemed absent. Still, she couldn’t shake that feeling of eyes on her. 

Sakura would have preferred to just go home and lock herself safely inside her apartment, but she had been doing that ever since Madara had been shot and frankly, she was getting a little sick of the microwavable dinners she had stored in her freezer for when she came home too late to cook and too hungry to immediately go to bed.

Parking her car in the lot, Sakura slipped out from behind the wheel and did a quick scan of her surroundings. The parking lot was half full, but none of the cars matched the description of the vehicle she seemed to keep seeing. A frown crossed her face. Was she imagining it all? 

After having been abducted by the Uchihas twice and been shot at while standing next to a third, every black car she saw made her take a second look. Perhaps she was paranoid, but she couldn’t deny that it was justified. 

Sighing, Sakura made her way into the store. She collected a variety of vegetables and meats; enough to hold her over for the next few days until she could come back on her day off and shop properly.

With a smile and a wish of a good night, the cashier handed over her change and bag of groceries. Sakura returned it before she made her way back outside. 

In the time she had been in the store, the sun had set below the horizon. The brightest stars were already twinkling overhead. The streetlights were flickering too, giving just enough light to make out the shapes of the cars. Most of the ones that had been there when Sakura arrived were already gone. 

With her grocery bag in one hand, Sakura paused at the trunk of her car as she searched her purse for her keys. She was still looking for them when she heard a car come to an abrupt stop behind her. Turning her head, she caught the barest glimpse of a taillight on a black car before someone grabbed her from behind. She tried to scream but the sound never made it past her mouth before a cloth with an odd chemical smell was pressed against her nose and mouth. 

Then everything went dark.

xx

Dull, aching pain slowly filled Sakura’s senses when she came around sometime later. She was on her side with her neck bent at an odd angle, giving her a headache that pounded at the base of her skull. She tried to stretch the muscles but they strained in protest, as did the rest of her body from laying on the cold, hard floor. 

A low groan tried to press out of her throat, but it caught behind the gag in her mouth. At the same time, she realized her hands were bound securely behind her back. Likely the reason for her odd sleeping position. 

Swallowing back another moan of pain, Sakura finally cracked her eyes open. She blinked a couple of times to clear the blurriness before she finally scanned her surroundings. 

She was in a room of concrete. The ground, the walls, even the high, dimly lit ceiling seemed to be made from the same material. Everything was covered in a layer of dust. It coated her throat and tickled her nose. The gag in her mouth was wet and had a vague taste of dirt and something even more foul that made her want to heave, but she knew if she puked, it would all get trapped behind the restraint. She forcefully swallowed back the bile. 

Drawing a knee to her chest, Sakura slowly rolled over until she could push herself upright. The rest of the room was almost entirely empty. A rusty, green desk was pushed against the far wall with a matching chair haphazardly left beside it. To the right of that was a single door. It was closed. Sakura strained her ears but she couldn’t hear anything beyond. 

She was alone in this tiny, cement box. Bound, gagged and utterly helpless. 

Tears began to build in the corners of her eyes. She tried to recall any detail of how she had ended up there. All she could remember was the black car – the one that had been following her for days. Had she pushed Izuna too far when they had spoken on the phone? 

The last two times Madara had demanded her presence, he had at least the courtesy to kidnap her with an ounce of respect – at least if she was comparing this kidnapping to the other ones. Now, she felt like someone’s trash. Crumpled and left to wither away on the dirty floor. That concerned her.

Had the Uchihas decided now that she knew too much about them? _Did_ she even know anything about them?

Sakura began to tremble as the unknown swirled around in her head like a hurricane. She swallowed hard as she tried to keep her tears back but a few still escaped down her cheeks.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, her mind racing and her ears straining to hear any sound outside her tiny prison. Her rear was beginning to go numb and her wrists ached from where the restraints cut into her skin. The cold was slowly seeping into her clothes, but she couldn’t stop herself from nodding off. 

Sakura was half-asleep when the door finally banged opened. Snapping her eyes open, she bolted upright. With her thoughts left to run wild, she had been expecting Izuna or Madara or at the very least Itachi. The man who walked in was none of them.

He was a tall male with silver hair the color of freshly polished steel. His eyes were the same shade, but colder as they reflected the overhead lights emotionlessly. Tattoos on his forearms peeked out from under the rolled-up sleeves of his navy shirt. The front button was undone, allowing her to catch a glimpse of the silver chain that hung around his neck, but she didn’t give it much notice. She was much too distracted by the tattoos on his face. A single red line on each cheek and another down the length of his chin. 

Even with the ink, Sakura would have thought him an attractive man. That was if she wasn’t actively pressing her back flush against the wall, hoping the concrete might let her fall through and take her somewhere safe. 

The instant his steely eyes locked on her, Sakura froze as if she had been turned to ice. His footsteps echoed loudly against the walls as he approached her. Only once he was a few feet away did he stop and stare down at her, hands in his pockets and his head cocked slightly as if he was looking at something that didn’t quite make sense. 

“Good morning, princess,” he said. His voice was soft and silky as if he were welcoming her to his home. “We thought you might sleep all day. How are you feeling?”

_All day?_ Just how long had she been unconscious for? 

Automatically Sakura thought of Naruto and Ino – the two people she talked to on a daily basis. They must know she was missing. She both hoped and feared they were looking for her. She didn’t want them involved in whatever she had landed herself in.

A brief silence stretched between them like the man was waiting for Sakura’s reply. With the gag still in her mouth, she could only swallow thickly, her eyes wide as she waited for what would happen next.

Hardly put off, he flashed her a smile. It was tight and cruel as if he was promising the worst was still yet to come. “Where are my manners? My name is Tobirama. And you must be Haruno Sakura. I have a few questions for you.”

The man reached for her then and instinctively Sakura snapped her eyes closed and flinched away. However, he merely loosened the knot of her gag and pulled it down until it rested around her neck.

While Tobirama did this, another man from the doorway came forward. He grabbed the rusty, green metal chair and brought it over for Tobirama to sit on. 

Sakura eyed her captor. “How do you know my name?”

“I said I would be asking the questions,” Tobirama said flatly, a frown briefly settling on his lips. “I want to know what interest you are to the Uchiha.”

“Uchiha?” she repeated, obviously puzzled. 

He sighed as if he was already bored of her. “Yes, Uchiha Madara. Tall, poorly dressed bastard. Mostly known for being an asshole.”

As if the world just spun the wrong way on its axis, she blinked owlishly. Sakura had been certain it was Madara’s men who had grabbed her. That they had decided her usefulness to them had ended, but with Tobirama’s line of questioning she was beginning to wonder who exactly he was. Tobirama obviously held some longstanding animosity towards Madara.

Confused, Sakura shook her head. “I don’t…I don’t know.”

Tobirama sighed like he had expected her answer. He then reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled a wrinkled envelope out. “You don’t? Perhaps you can tell me then why he was giving you thirty thousand dollars?”

He leaned forward to toss the letter down in front of her before settling back again. Her eyes widened when she realized it wasn’t a letter, but the check Madara had written her. It now had some water damage and there were some spots that looked suspiciously like blood, but it was her name that was printed clearly in the center. 

She wondered how Tobirama had gotten ahold of it. Her last memory of it was of her tossing the offending envelope into Madara’s town car. Before they had been targeted and nearly shot up by some unknown men. 

It suddenly crossed her mind that Tobirama might have been the very person who had been on the other end of the gun. He had nearly killed Madara; had nearly killed her. And he was very likely about to rectify that.

“Here’s the thing, Sakura – can I call you Sakura?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Madara doesn’t spend his money frivolously. In fact, he’s a bit of a prude when it comes to his finances. What I want to know is what you did for him that makes you so valuable.”

Sakura didn’t answer. Her words escaped her. She didn’t know what to say and honestly, she doubted there was anything she could tell her captor that would make her situation better.

Tobirama hummed. “Nothing? Perhaps there’s a way to jog your memory.” He reached into his back pocket again, only this time he withdrew a pocket knife. When he flipped it open, a four-inch blade slipped out.

Whatever fear Sakura had felt before paled in comparison. Her heart stopped in her chest and the blood ceased to flow through her veins. Her entire world shrunk down until all that existed was the knife. It flashed in the fluorescent overhead lights. She began to tremble so violently she wasn’t even sure her mouth could properly form words. 

“Please,” she tried. “I don’t-I don’t know anything.”

Tobirama nodded slowly as he tossed the knife from one hand to the other lazily. Her eyes tracked every movement. “You might be telling the truth,” he said. Then the blade stilled in his hand. “But there is only one way to find out.”

Her screams pierced every corner of the high ceiling.

xx

Madara was furious. Beyond furious. He was spitting mad, but he sat utterly composed as his men informed him that while they were supposed to be on protection-watch for Sakura, they had instead allowed her to be abducted by a group of the Senju’s men. 

It had been Madara’s intention all along to pay his debt with the good doctor off and leave her be, but after the shooting he suspected she might be in more danger than she was aware. After all, the Senjus now knew her face. He didn’t know if he was pleased or not that his hunch had been correct.

“We followed the car to the shipping ports on the east before we lost them,” one of the men informed him, his head bowed as if afraid to meet Madara’s eye. And he should be. “If you want, we can keep looking–” 

“No, I want you to do nothing. You have already failed me,” Madara replied with a voice of winter’s coldest ice. “Get out of my sight.”

Immediately the man and his two buddies scrambled out of the room, the door shutting firmly behind them. Izuna said nothing for a long moment before he closed the book he was pretending to read.

“Scaring our own men might not be the best decision at the moment,” his younger brother said with an air of boredom like he really didn’t care one way or another. “I already have Itachi out looking for her. If there’s one person who can find Dr. Haruno in this city, it is him.”

That information calmed Madara some, but the frustration – both at himself and his men – lingered. Sakura had saved his life and he repaid her by providing her some half-assed security. He was as much to blame as the idiots he had ordered to tail her. 

The pain in Madara’s shoulder flared with his agitation. With only his brother present in their hideout hidden inside the fish market, he allowed himself one moment of weakness as he pressed his fingers into the muscles surrounding his injuries. He didn’t remember much of the shooting. Only brief flashes of pushing Sakura down into the car before he dropped himself on top of her. 

He didn’t know how much later he awoke after that. Izuna told him Sakura had dragged him to a clinic to dig the shrapnel out of his shoulder before she had called Izuna. Only when they arrived, Sakura was gone. Izuna had brought him to his safehouse to recover while his men dumped the car in a river outside of town.

That had been nearly two weeks ago. The wound so far had healed impeccably, but it still had a ways to go. It ached more when he became irritated, but he refused to take the pain medication Izuna had brought him. He needed to be as clear-headed as possible until the issue of her abduction was resolved. 

Madara felt as if he waited a lifetime before he finally received Itachi’s text. He had found her.

In some dirty, old warehouse in a corner of the city, they were holding her captive. The area had once been a place where shipping and trade had flourished. Now it was nothing more than a rat-infested shadow of its former self, left to crumble and rot away. The perfect hideout for someone like Tobirama.

Madara texted orders his men were to meet him there in thirty minutes. Armed and ready to raid. 

The compound wasn’t very well guarded. There were only a dozen men. Two guarded the outside doors, which Itachi took care of easily and silently with two rounds from his sniper. Madara allowed Shisui to lead the attack upon his request – after all, Sakura had tended to his injuries once before as well.

Madara only had one order: “Find her.”

They took the Senjus by surprise. Shisui stormed through the doors first. The entrance opened up into a large room. There was a cluster of men sitting around a folded table playing cards, but Shisui didn’t give them the chance to reach for their weapons before he put a bullet through the heads of every single one of them.

Somewhere towards the back of the compound, the sound of pounding footsteps and shouting came from additional rooms. Shisui followed the clatter as his men swarmed the area. Without hesitation, Shisui shot one of the Senju’s men in the head as he ducked out of a room, his gun falling uselessly to the floor beside his body. 

“Search the rooms,” Shisui ordered with a steely voice as he paused to load a new magazine into his weapon. 

As it was with most of these kinds of raids, only a few minutes passed before the gunfire began to lessen. From somewhere else, perhaps outside, bullets still cracked, but in the back of the warehouse, the chaos was already beginning to slowly dwindle. 

Then one of Shisui’s men poked his head out of a room halfway down a long hallway. “Over here, sir!”

Shisui jogged over. He stepped over a body in the doorway and followed his man’s nod to the corner of the room. Sure enough, there was a small figure huddled against the far wall. She sat in the corner, her arms wrapped around her head as if she was trying to hide herself away from the world. Her hair was disheveled, and dust and dirt covered almost every inch of her, but he recognized Sakura. 

Holstering his weapon, Shisui approached her slowly. She flinched at the thud of his footsteps and pressed herself more firmly against the wall as if trying to keep as much distance between them for as long as possible. She was a brave, intelligent woman with strong hands and a good heart. It made his stomach twist uncomfortably to see her beaten down to this frightened, dirty girl. 

Then Shisui stopped dead in his tracks. Her pants were missing. And crimson blood coated the inside of her thighs. What the hell did they do to her?

Boiling hot emotion scorched Shisui’s veins as he realized just how far the Senju had fallen. His hands clenched into fists and a vein in his neck began to throb. _He would murder Tobirama._

“Sakura, where is Tobirama?” he asked between gritted teeth. 

At the call of her name, she peeked up at him. Her face was smudged with dirt with two twin lines running down either cheek where tears had wiped the grit away. Her eyes were wide while she shook her head tightly. She didn’t know.

Red began to fill Shisui’s vision until he saw that between her clenched thighs, she was still wearing panties. They were dirty from the floor and stained red where the blood had dripped down her legs, but they were there. He was about to ask what they did to her until he saw the look in her eyes. She was utterly terrified. He needed to get her out of here. He needed to get her to Madara – where she would be safe.

Forcing himself to breathe, Shisui shoved his anger down into a tight, little box. It wouldn’t do well to scare her further. 

Lowering himself to his knees, Shisui gave her a small smile. “Let’s get out of here, okay?”

Her eyes shined with shy, timid hope, only to flicker out like a candle in the wind before fear filled her green orbs again. It took a moment for him to understand where it was coming from. She had been captured by the mafia. And now she was being rescued by another mafia. She didn’t know who to trust. Her life had been wholly turned on its side. 

With the softest voice, Shisui held his hand out to her. Not too close to scare her and low enough to show he wasn’t a threat. “Sakura, you helped me once. Now please…let me help you.”

The seconds ticked away before the grip she had on herself finally loosened. She unfolded herself slowly before she reached out with trembling fingers. As soon as their hands touched, he wrapped his fingers gently but firmly around hers before he pushed himself to his feet, carefully pulling her up with him.

As soon as he was certain she was steady on her feet, he released her before he shrugged out of his jacket. It wasn’t terribly big, but it hung down to her mid-thigh, keeping her mostly modest. It was all he could do for her now until they could get her a blanket or some actual clothes. 

“Let’s get you somewhere safe,” he said with a smile.

Sakura didn’t reply, but her eyes darted uneasily to the man still waiting beside the door. With a single jerk of his chin, Shisui dismissed him. She allowed Shisui to lead her towards the door, only to stop dead in her tracks when she saw the body in the doorway.

“It’s okay. Don’t look at him,” Shisui said. When Sakura still didn’t move, he placed a comforting hand at her back. “Just look at me.”

Her whole body trembled, but eventually he guided her through the doorway, ensuring she walked far enough over the body to avoid stepping in the pool of blood with her bare feet. 

As soon as they were clear, he dropped his arm and smiled at her. “See, it’s all okay.”

She didn’t say anything but she continued to follow him towards the main room. Shisui could hear Itachi’s voice from the hall, issuing orders to call a cleaning team.

Shisui led her towards the entrance, knowing there would be a car waiting for her outside that would take her to Madara. He kept talking in a calming tone as they walked, glancing back when they passed another body on the floor. 

Only to find Sakura was gone. 

Swinging around, Shisui peered down the hallway, but there was no one there. Just the emergency door cracked open a hair, allowing the streetlight to cut a sliver of light against the floor. From outside, the engine of a well-tuned Jaguar roared to life before tires squealed out of the lot. 

Frantically, Shisui searched the pockets of his pants only to remember he had left his car keys in his jacket pocket. He released the world’s most pained groan. Not only did she leave him to get his ass chewed out by Madara, but she stole his car too. 

This was the worst raid ever. 

xx

Madara tracked Sakura back to her apartment. It wasn’t difficult given the fact Shisui’s car was parked crooked in the lines on the street out front. Madara was still irked that Shisui had allowed her out of his sights, but it was a conversation he had chosen to postpone with his nephew until a more convenient time when he could properly scold him about the dangers of lowering his guard. Especially around intelligent women.

Still, it relieved Madara to know that Sakura had the strength to escape on her own. Upon learning of Senju Tobirama’s abduction, he had assumed the violent man would do his worst. 

When Madara approached the building, a young, well-dressed woman with a baby on her hip was just leaving the complex. He held the door open for her with a pleasant smile before he slipped through the code-protected entry. He found Sakura’s name and apartment number on her mailbox before he caught the elevator to the fourth floor. 

Her apartment was the third one on the left. A simple white door with her apartment number nailed to the surface in shining silver. He raised his hand to knock at the same instant the deadbolt slid out of place. A moment later, the door was thrown open before Madara came face-to-face with Sakura. They both stilled abruptly.

It was obvious Sakura was on her way out judging by the overnight bag she held in one hand and Shisui’s car keys in the other. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple, cream colored zip-up jacket with a pair of black, winter boots on her feet. She was freshly showered, her pink hair a shade of red as the ends hung wet around her shoulders. Her eyes were wide as if she had just been caught doing something she shouldn’t have.

“Going somewhere?” Madara asked calmly.

As if shaken from her stupor, Sakura jumped back. She looked about to slam the door closed but he stepped into the entryway before she had the chance. She scrambled backwards, dropping her bag and the car keys in her rapid need to distance herself from him.

Madara’s eyes narrowed when he noticed the slight limp on her left side, but he spoke nothing of it as he quietly closed the door behind him. When he turned back around, she had placed the living room couch between them. A physical barrier. 

“I am not here to harm you, Sakura,” he told her. 

Her bright emerald eyes were still wide and unblinking. Distrust was written all over her face. “Then what do you want?”

“I am here to check on you,” Madara said. “I wanted to see for myself if you were alright.”

“Alright?” she repeated. 

He nodded. “Senju Tobirama isn’t exactly known for his hospitality.”

Sakura stared, momentarily taken aback. Uncertainty was still lingering in her eyes, but something else began to stir. Something much more unwelcoming, something full of searing fire. “And you are?”

“I like to believe that I treated you with a certain level of respect while in my company.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How dare you. How dare you come here after everything you’ve done; everything you’ve put me through. I haven’t been alright since the day Izuna kidnapped me out of my own hospital. Since the very day you entered my life.”

Had anyone else spoken to him this way, Madara would have ended them with a single bullet to the skull. Her blatant mistrust and resentment rubbed him the wrong way, but he refused to match her anger with his own. She had been through a great deal in a short period. Plus, there was that annoying little fact that he had saved his life only a few short weeks ago.

“I understand your frustrations,” he said as evenly as he could. “I promise you it had been my attention to leave you alone after I repaid by debt to you, but the Senju saw you with me. You are now one of their targets.”

“One of their targets?”

Madara nodded. “They will continue to watch you.”

“For how long?”

“Because we raided Tobirama’s warehouse, for the rest of your life,” he said quietly as if he was single-handedly hammering the last nail into her coffin.

Sakura’s mouth parted slowly as his words washed over her. Her rage flared again, this time hotter and more intensely than before. Her eyes hardened into glittering emeralds as her hands clenched into fists. “This is all your fault! I was perfectly fine before you came into my life and now you fucked it all up. You made me a target for the god damn mafia! Why didn’t you just leave me alone?”

Madara didn’t reply to that. He simply slipped his hands in his pockets to keep his appearance of aloofness as he told her collectedly, “You will need a protection detail–”

“I don’t want your protection!” she all but screamed.

A frown crossed his face but it was gone as quickly as it came as he held his composure. He wasn’t used to being looked at like she was looking at him now; as if he were an asshole who kept pestering her after she told him to go away. Well, perhaps because he _was_. But that was beside the point. 

“This is your life we are discussing, Sakura.”

_“My life?”_ she spat as if it was a dirty word. “A few months ago, you didn’t give a damn about my life. You threatened it every chance you got! So, you can take your protection and shove it. I’m done playing these stupid games.”

Forgetting that she was supposed to be keeping distance between them, Sakura left the protection of the couch and made to brush past him, intent on leaving. In a fleeting moment of anger, Madara grabbed her elbow and jerked her back to him.

A sharp gasp escaped her. One of true, unbridled pain.

The sound cooled his wrath as quickly as it had come. Automatically his gaze dropped down, his focus turning to the side she had been limping on. His eyes zeroed in on the blood slowly seeping into the seam of her jeans on her inner thigh. 

_What had Tobirama done to her?_

“You’re bleeding,” Madara stated.

Sakura tugged on the grip he still had on her arm, but he didn’t release her. “It’s nothing,” she said.

There was still a bite of resentment on her tongue, but her eyes were downcast, not quite able to meet his gaze. His eyes narrowed further. 

“What did he do to you?” he asked. His tone made it clear there was no room for lies or half-truths.

Sakura tried to pull away from him again, but his grasp tightened. She looked away towards the window, her lips pursed together as emotion threatened to overcome her. He saw her chin quiver before she ground her teeth together and swallowed hard, reigning in her emotions tightly. He wasn’t sure he quite liked that.

When she looked up at him again, there was still anger in her eyes. But also fear and pain. 

“He found the check you wrote me,” Sakura bit out, a hint of a waver in her voice. “He wanted to know why you would give me so much money. He thought I was important to you. That I was valuable. And then he-”

She was unable to finish and Madara didn’t ask as he imagined the worse. As far as he knew, the check had been in the car when Izuna’s men had dumped it outside of town. Had Tobirama found the envelope in the river?

He didn’t know, but it didn’t matter at the moment. She had suffered at the hands of Tobirama because of him. Madara wasn’t accustomed to feeling guilty. He didn’t allow himself to feel such emotions, but he did feel at fault for what she had been through. 

“Allow me to call you a doctor,” Madara said, his tone softening.

To his surprise, Sakura’s eyes narrowed defensively. “I _am_ a doctor.”

The glare she shot him was downright murderous. He would never admit it, but he was actually impressed with how well she was standing her ground against him. There was fire and fight to her. She was a woman who was not easily pushed around. 

It was clear all she wanted to do at that moment was argue; to feel anger and rage to deflect from the trauma she had been through, but Madara refused to give rise to her baiting. 

“Then let’s see to your care.”

Sakura stubbornly resisted him only once more before she allowed him to steer her back to her couch. He sat her down on the edge before he gazed around. They were standing in the living room with the kitchen just beyond, but the counters were clean with everything in its place.

Behind him was the bathroom. From where he stood, he could see straight into it. The light was still on, forgotten in her earlier haste to leave, but it allowed him to see a medical bag with supplies left on the counter beside it: a roll of half-used gauze, a pair of surgical scissors, a bloody towel. She had tried to hurriedly treat herself before he had arrived. 

Striding into the bathroom, Madara stopped and gazed at the medical equipment lining the counter. Only to realize he didn’t particularly know what she needed. Unsure, he piled everything into her medical bag before he brought it back out to the living room and set it on the low coffee table in front of the couch.

Sakura had removed her jacket, leaving her in a nondescript black t-shirt. Her boots went next before her hands went to the button of her jeans. She didn’t ask him to turn around, but Madara diverted his eyes out of respect.

His gaze returned when she began to rummage through the bag. She reached for the surgical scissors and placed the sharp ends at the gauze wrapped around her thigh. It had already bled through, but her hands were shaking so badly, she ran the risk of injuring herself further by trying to remove the soiled bandages.

“Fuck,” Sakura hissed.

Frustrated, she threw the scissors back into her bag before she clenched and unclenched her hands as if that would make the trembling stop. Madara didn’t have to ask what was wrong.

As a trauma surgeon, it was a requirement to have steady hands. To have perfect control to perform even the most delicate of sutures. In all the time Madara had seen Sakura work, she had been terrified but her fingers had been strong and completely under control. Her hands had never once wavered. 

Until now.

Without a word, Madara shrugged off his suit jacket, mindful of his own still-healing injury in his shoulder, before he laid it over the arm of the couch. He rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt before he pulled the low-sitting coffee table closer and sat in front of her. Their knees were almost touching, but Sakura didn’t seem to even notice him. She was still glaring at her hands like they were traitors.

Without a word, Madara retrieved the scissors from the bag before he reached for her. In an instant, Sakura's hand shot out with lightning-fast reflexes as her fingers wrapped around his wrist with almost bruising strength. 

Madara stilled abruptly. His instincts were yelling at him to reach for his gun and to eliminate the threat, but he sharply pushed the urge down. It seemed neither one of them were willing to trust the other quite yet.

However, between the two of them, she had done a great deal more for him than he had done for her. His debt was still owed. At the very least, he could do this for her until he could figure out how to move forward with their unique situation.

Relaxing his tense muscles, Madara looked up and met Sakura’s green gaze directly. “I already told you I will not harm you," he said, his tone objective but reassuring.

Sakura held his stare for one second. And then another and another. She was searching for something in his gaze. Perhaps a lie or any hint of deception.

When she found none, her grip on him loosened before it fell away completely. He would never show weakness, but he was amazed at the physical strength in her hands. He half-wondered if she had left bruises.

Without a word, Sakura watched with intense scrutiny as he gently cut the bandages away, a soft hiss escaping her when they rubbed against her injury. It was only when he gently urged her knees apart that she looked away.

On the inside of her left leg, a few inches below the appendix of her thigh was a series of deep knife cuts. They weren’t deep enough to be life-threatening, but just enough to know they would scar. Some were already beginning to scab over but the rest were still bleeding freely. Madara poured some disinfectant on a towel before he grasped her knee to hold her steady while the other hand cleaned the blood away with careful swipes.

He worked wordlessly, doing his best to minimize the number of times Sakura stiffened in pain. He knew it hurt, but she never once complained. It wasn’t long before he began to realize the cuts weren’t random. They were a design. 

No, not a design; but rather kanji. Two symbols that spelled out the words: _little treasure_. 

Madara’s hand stilled. He stared at the writing, his mind trying to process what he was seeing. Then he remembered what Sakura had told him:

_"He thought I was important to you. That I was valuable."_

The thought of Tobirama touching her made Madara’s blood boil. It frustrated him to no end that the younger Senju brother hadn’t been at the warehouse during their raid, but Madara’s only focus at the time had been on retrieving Sakura.

Revenge simmered low in his gut, but he withheld his anger. There was no place for it here with her. However, Madara vowed he would see to it personally that Tobirama met his end. And soon.

Madara glanced at Sakura, but her gaze was stubbornly turned away as if she was ashamed. It occurred to him that this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t chosen to hand-deliver his payment to her, but he didn’t apologize. There was no point to it now.

When the blood began to bubble in the knife cuts again, Madara returned to his work. There was nothing sexual about him attending to the wounds of her agonizing torture. He was seeing all her pain and suffering. But if there was one thing that he hadn’t expected to see was her inner strength; how well she composed herself after enduring so much.

He made a silent promise to Sakura then. He would personally ensure she never went through something like this again. He would protect her. Senju Tobirama would never lay a hand on her again.

**_tbc..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a public service announcement: Ladies, please have your keys in your hand BEFORE you leave the store. When you get into your car, don’t sit there on your phone. LEAVE. Let's keep us girls safe. <3
> 
> Also, I know the theme was a quote, but rather than using the quote directly, I made it the underlying theme of this chapter.
> 
> This is also my last post for MadaSaku week 2020. Updates will continue but at a slower rate. I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter Four_ **

Sakura woke with a start. She snapped her eyes open, her heart pounding in her chest and the blood roaring in her ears. Above her, Naruto stared down at her. He was dressed in his surgical scrubs, a stethoscope around his neck and a concerned expression on his face.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked. “It sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

With a quick glance around, Sakura recognized the on-call room in the hospital. She had crashed there after a twenty-hour shift. 

She tried to recall the specifics of her dream, but it lingered just outside her memory. It hadn’t been pleasant, that much she was sure of, but she pushed the remnants far away as she ran a hand down her face. 

“I don’t-I don’t remember,” she lied. “What time is it?”

Naruto checked his watch. “A little past five.”

“Morning or evening?”

“Evening.”

That would explain why she was so exhausted. She had only been asleep for a few hours. 

“Did I miss a page?” Sakura asked as she pushed herself upright.

“No,” he shook his head. “But the news just reported a multi-car pile-up on the highway. We’re going to have a lot of in-coming traumas. I figured you’d want time for a coffee before all hell breaks loose.”

At the word ‘coffee’, Sakura’s nose picked up on the bitter scent. Her eyes landed on the to-go cup in his hand from the coffee cart in the courtyard. She smiled her thanks as Naruto handed it over before he took a seat on the bed next to her.

He allowed her one minute of uninterrupted peace before he finally asked, “So, you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Sakura swallowed another mouthful of caffeine with an appreciative sigh before she glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

Naruto was normally a bright, happy-go-lucky person. He was a trauma surgeon like her with an emphasis in pediatric cases. It was his warm, sunny smile that had kids find reassurance and comfort in what was usually a trying ordeal.

None of his smiles were present now as he observed her with sharp, blue eyes. He was looking at her now like an interrogator hunting for a lie in a suspect. 

“You’ve been distant the past few weeks. And at the hospital for four days straight,” Naruto told her like she was unaware. 

Which wasn’t far from the truth. Had it been that many days already?

“We’re busy, but not that busy,” he continued. “What’s going on?”

Sakura didn’t immediately reply as the memory of her abduction by Tobirama crossed her mind, quickly followed by the healing wound in the inside of her leg. It was still too painful to think about, but the injury throbbed as if to remind her of its presence. Bits and pieces of her conversation with Madara filled her head, of protection details and escorts and her security, but she forced it away when she realized Naruto was still waiting for an answer.

“It’s nothing,” Sakura said. When he continued to half-stare, half-glare at her, she shook her head. “Nothing I want to talk about right now anyway.”

Naruto eyed her a moment longer before he released a long, half-teasing sigh. “Fine, but you will talk to me about it, right?”

He hooked a friendly arm around her shoulders when she nodded and flashed him a smile, but it faded quickly. She knew she could never tell him about what happened. She couldn’t tell him that she had been purposely keeping him at arm’s length. She was worried what would happen if the mafia – Madara or Tobirama – learned of their friendship. She didn’t want to drag him into this hell with her. Keeping him safe was more important than his feelings. 

They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes before their pagers went off. An evening full of bloody traumas was exactly what Sakura needed to get her mind off of everything.

It was some time after sunrise before Sakura and Naruto emerged from the OR again. They had worked together to save the life of a young boy who had suffered severe trauma to his abdomen in the series of car crashes. Fortunately, he wasn’t one of the casualties.

Sakura half-expected Naruto to tell her to go home, but one shared look and a silent agreement passed between them. They would go home – after a nap. They crashed in beds across from each other.

It was the first time since _that_ night that Sakura didn’t have nightmares. Her brain was too tired to conjure up anything. By the time she awoke again, it was already past noon. Naruto was still asleep in the other bed, his soft snores breaking up the quiet.

Today was Sakura’s day off, and while the urge to close her eyes and grab a few more minutes of sleep were tempting, she really didn’t want to be around when Naruto woke up. The last thing she needed was more questions.

After a few more minutes of lazing around, Sakura forced herself up. She slipped her shoes on and grabbed her pager from the table at the head of the bed before she snuck out of the room. 

The hospital was already in full swing, but no one stopped Sakura as she made her way to the attendings’ lounge. She changed into a pair of jeans and a white shirt with a design of an owl on the front before she tugged her sweatshirt on. 

In the entrance to the hospital, Sakura carefully scanned the parking lot before she dared to step outside. She made it to her car safely before she took a direct route home. There, a familiar Jaguar was waiting for her.

A feeling of dread washed over Sakura. She knew what Shisui’s presence meant, but she had hoped she could’ve had at least one more, normal day on her own before everything got turned on its side. 

She didn’t greet Shisui as he joined her on the front steps of her apartment. She allowed him to follow her inside the elevator before they rode it to her floor. It was only once her apartment door was closed behind them that he spoke.

“You’re being watched,” he told her.

Sakura set her keys down on the dry sink in the entryway before she kicked her shoes into the corner and tugged her sweatshirt off. “Color me not surprised,” she said indifferently.

“I don’t mean by us, Sakura,” Shisui said, his tone briefly turning stern. When she stopped and looked at him, his voice softened. “The Senju are pissed. They want revenge against us. They want you.”

That was enough to twist Sakura’s stomach into knots. She looked away from him as she continued dealing with her sweatshirt, taking the time to fold it up neatly if only to give herself something to do.

“So, what happens now?” she asked.

“Madara wants you moved. He wants you brought to a secure location,” he said without pause. As if the entire Uchiha family had already decided her fate without her input or opinion. Which was very likely the case.

The urge to argue was tempting, but Sakura couldn’t find it within her. Her life was no longer her own. She could feel eyes everywhere she went, like the shadows were bursting with the monsters of the night, just waiting for her to come a little too close so they could devour her. She was frightened all the time. Of both the known and the unknown.

In the end, Sakura didn’t ask any more questions. She simply grabbed her largest suitcase and began filling it with clothes and the necessities she would need to get by for a little while. Until she figured out what her new normal would be. If there was any such thing.

In the passenger seat of Shisui’s car – the one she had stolen only earlier that week – Sakura’s gaze turned out the window. Her neighborhood rolled by and her nose began to burn with the first tears as it occurred to her she may never come back here. 

Her vision turned blurry and tears silently slid down her cheeks when she blinked. Sakura tried to wipe them away subtly as she forced herself to accept that this was her new life. Nothing was set in stone and the road before her would be awash with blood. She thought of her friends Ino and Naruto, and wondered what she would tell them. Could she even see them again without risking their lives? Sakura was just glad her mother was no longer alive; she would have been forced to lie to keep her from worrying.

Then there was her job at the hospital. Would she be allowed to keep it? She had worked so hard and went to school for so long. It would be such a waste and utterly heartbreaking for her to have to give it all up.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Sakura decided in that moment she wouldn’t let Madara take that from her. He could take her apartment and he could force a guard on her twenty-four/seven, but she would not allow him to take her job from her. She loved being a surgeon. She was at her happiest in the OR, cutting and suturing and saving lives. She wouldn’t allow him to take that from her.

Wiping the rest of her tears away, Sakura focused on the view out the window. Her brow furrowed when she realized they had already passed this street before. And the next one. 

Confused, Sakura glanced at Shisui, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was driving slowly as if he had no hurry in the world. When he felt her gaze, he peered at her with a questioning look. Immediately she realized he had been driving around the block for _her_ benefit. He was giving her a minute to collect herself before she was introduced to her new world. 

She flashed him a tiny smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it conveyed her thanks. She hadn’t expected any kindness from someone a part of a mafia family, which just made her feel all that much worse for stealing his car. She had been terrified at the time and desperate to escape, but still. 

She wasn’t entirely sure how the whole mafia thing worked, but she wondered if Shisui had been sent specifically to get her as some kind of test. That he had better bring her to Madara safely because he wouldn’t be allowed to fail again. The thought she might have put his own life at risk weighed heavily on her, especially when he had been kind to her after Tobirama’s abduction.

“Hey,” Sakura began quietly. “I’m sorry about before. For stealing your car and whatnot. I hope I didn’t get you in trouble or anything.”

Shisui glanced at her again, causing a diamond, studded earring she hadn’t noticed before to flash in the city lights. “Nothing worse than what I’ve been in before. But it’s alright. I get why you did it.”

They spoke about light subjects after that. The delicious ramen place on the corner, the Asian market they sped past on the highway and Shisui’s affinity for spicy foods. They talked until eventually Shisui took them off the highway and towards the edge of the city where the trees thickened and the roads narrowed. 

Sakura grew silent when they reached a tall, black gate. The security guard out front let them pass upon recognizing Shisui. Inside was a large, perfectly manicured front lawn with towering fruit trees planted neatly in a row and a wide pond with lily pads on the surface. The driveway cut off to the right before turning into a large, circular drive. Beyond that was the most massive, gorgeous house Sakura had ever seen. Or perhaps mansion was a better word. 

It was made of red brick with a white, well-maintained wooden trim. A stone balcony jutted out from the third story and she counted at least fifteen windows on the outer-facing side. Did they expect her to live here? She would get lost in the entryway.

“Is this the secure location?” Sakura asked.

Shisui nodded as he put the car in park and killed the engine. “This is the safest location there is. Madara’s house.”

Sakura ripped her gaze away from the stunning mansion to look at Shisui sharply, but he was already exiting the car. She opened her mouth to tell him to take her back into the city, but he closed the door before she could get the words out. 

A moment later hers opened and she glanced up abruptly to find what appeared to be a butler standing there. He held out his hand politely to assist her out of the car. Too stunned to say anything, Sakura simply accepted. 

After closing the door behind her, he made his way towards the trunk. When he lifted her suitcase out of the back, she stepped forward. “I can get that,” she started.

“They’ll bring it to your room for you,” Shisui told her. He was standing at the foot of the entryway stairs, obviously waiting for her. “Come with me. Madara will want to know you’ve arrived.”

Sakura opened her mouth to argue only to close it when she realized it was pointless. Obediently, she followed.

The entry was more beautiful than the outside if that were even possible. Everything was bathed in whites, blacks and gold. There were twin staircases that wound up either side before joining together into a black banister. The hallway went either direction so she couldn’t see too much of the upper floors. She didn’t know too much about art, but there were expensive-looking paintings with gold frames hanging on the walls. The stairs and floor were made of polished white marble and there was a crystal chandelier that hung overhead that made everything gleam and sparkle. 

Directly in front of them, under the banister was a wide hallway that led to the rest of the house. From there she could hear other people moving around. Perhaps the maids. Or maybe even Madara himself. The thought made Sakura’s stomach twist nervously. She still didn’t know what to think of the fact she was in his home.

“Come on,” Shisui said.

Sakura dropped her gaze from where she had been staring at the intricate patterns on the ceiling to see Shisui was already standing in the walkway under the stairs. She had half a mind to remove her shoes, lest she mark the floors. Instead, she hurried to keep up with him as he led her through the house. She was certain she would get lost if she didn’t stick too close. 

They passed a sitting room with the largest television she had ever seen on the wall. There was a massive, white couch in front of it with two loveseats on either side to create a loose horseshoe shape. Passed that was a door that was slightly ajar. She only got a quick peek of what appeared to be a dining room with a large rectangular table that could seat at least a dozen guests comfortably before they moved on.

Eventually they reached the kitchen. Itachi was inside, leaning against the far counter with his phone in one hand and an energy drink in the other. She didn’t dare warn him of the lasting health effects they could cause.

Itachi glanced up when Shisui walked in. Sakura followed at a much slower pace.

“Where’s Madara?” Shisui asked.

Itachi jerked his chin towards the side as if gesturing to another part of the house. “In the den.”

“He still waiting for an update from Izuna?”

Itachi shrugged one shoulder as he raised his energy drink to his lips. “He was last I heard. There should be news soon. If he’s on the phone, don’t bother him.”

Shisui nodded before he left the room. He didn’t invite Sakura to go with him and so she remained behind. Just her and Itachi. Alone.

She did her best not to fidget. She pulled her phone from her pocket to occupy herself only to find she was out of signal range. A quiet sigh pressed out her nose and she darkened the screen again, only to see Itachi was back on his own phone, likely on wi-fi. 

He was dressed as the Uchiha men normally were. Sleek, black suits with expensive, polished designer shoes. Sakura wondered if they dressed like that all the time. Did they own any other outfits? A pair of sweats? Athletic shoes? She tried to imagine Madara in anything else, but she came up short. 

Her mind then wandered back to the tattoos she had seen before on his forearms. Tobirama had tattoos too. A couple of bleeding flowers and daggers, she recalled. She tried to remember what ink had been branded into Madara’s skin, but it was all a blur now. Did Itachi and Shisui have tattoos too? She’d read somewhere once before about criminals having similar designs: tears for murder, spiderwebs to resemble time spent in prison. 

Sakura realized she had been staring at Itachi a moment too late when he looked up abruptly and caught her eye. Unconsciously, she flinched and purposely turned her gaze out the window to the grounds in the back. 

“Don’t look so frightened. I promise I don’t bite,” Itachi said.

Sakura’s eyes flickered back to him, but she found it difficult to meet his gaze. Madara terrified her, but they had come to a weird kind of understanding. At least she thought they had. Itachi on the other hand…she was pretty sure he would still put a bullet in her back the very instant he was given permission. 

A smirk crossed his face when she remained silent. She didn’t know if he thought himself funny or if he actually enjoyed the fact that he unnerved her, but she was fortunately saved the discomfort when the sound of multiple pairs of footsteps came from the hall.

Sakura glanced up nervously, her stomach fluttering. She didn’t know how to act or what to say. She was literally standing in the kitchen of the Godfather of the Uchiha family. She was tempted to make a run for it, but she knew she wouldn’t get far inside these iron gates. And besides, Shisui had returned.

To her surprise – and perhaps relief – it wasn’t Madara that followed behind him, but rather a maid. 

“Madara’s in the middle of business right now, but he had the staff make up your room already,” Shisui told her, nodding at the woman that had followed him. “Hina can show you. Your things should be there already.”

The maid stepped forward and bowed politely. She was an older woman with wispy, grey hair that was pulled back into a tight bun, but there were deep wrinkles around her mouth and eyes that gave Sakura the impression she smiled a lot. If Sakura’s mother had lived longer, she imagined this is what she would look like later in life. 

“I can take you whenever you are ready,” the woman, Hina, said kindly.

Relieved to see an ounce of compassion, Sakura nodded and followed the older woman into the hall. She glanced over her shoulder just as Shisui took his car keys out of his pocket and Itachi straightened from the counter.

Guess it was just her now. And Madara. A new wave of anxiety swirled in her stomach.

Hina led Sakura to a room on the second floor somewhere near the middle of the house. It was the largest bedroom Sakura had ever been in with a king-sized bed and a full-sized vanity. There was a walk-in closet with enough room to store her entire wardrobe six times over and a bathtub in the bathroom big enough to fit three people comfortably.

The window had the most magnificent view of the grounds. Down the center was a stone walkway that led to a beautiful, stone fountain. To the left was a covered cabana with plush lounge chairs and benches for relaxing. The other side of the yard held a garden with blooming flowers and bushes and tall weeping willows.

It was Sakura’s dream house. If only the past month had been a dream.

Hina pointed out her suitcase where it sat on the floor at the foot of the bed before she informed Sakura dinner would be ready in two hours. Until then, her time was her own. Left to her own devices, Sakura did what she always did when she wanted to _not_ think: she read up on one of her medical texts. 

However, the last few days of long shifts and little sleep had taken their toll, and before she knew it, her head had settled against the mattress and her eyes drifted shut. 

In her sleep, Sakura had more dreams. She saw flashes of a blade and a cruel smile. It was too dark for her to make out her surroundings, but she could just as clearly feel the knife run along her skin, up her arm and across her collarbone. Everywhere it touched warm, sticky blood flowed.

She wanted to scream, she wanted to run, but she couldn’t like some unknown force had wrapped her up in their grip. She was trapped as the blood continued to pour, rising to her waist and then her shoulders before slowly inching closer and closer to her chin…

Sakura woke abruptly. It was dark wherever she was and for a heart-stopping moment, she wondered if her dream hadn’t been a dream at all.

Pushing herself upright, she scurried backwards until her back hit a wall. She reached out blindly until her hand hit a light switch. Harsh, bright lights abruptly blinded her. It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust, but when they finally did, she found herself sitting on a bed in a luxurious bedroom. 

Her memory of Madara’s mansion and her new room returned to her instantly. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief as she rubbed her hands over her face. She had never been so happy to be awake.

Tobirama’s grin still lingered in her thoughts, his cold laugh echoing in her ears, but it wasn’t his face that haunted her dreams. It was the fact he had Madara’s eyes. Icy obsidian had glinted at her through the darkness, stony and utterly merciless. Like the first time they had met. 

The worst part was she knew she had dreamt of that face before. Two mobsters melded into one perfect nightmare. 

Shaking herself, Sakura stood and crossed the room to the bathroom. She splashed some cold water on her face until she chased the rest of the nightmare from her mind before she returned to the bedroom.

It was dark outside. She peered across the room to the clock on the bedside table. The time stared back in blood red: _3:26_. It was the middle of the night. She hadn’t been woken up for dinner. 

As if on cue, Sakura’s stomach growled softly. She considered ignoring her body and trying to go back to sleep, but the thought of what might await her in her dreams had her slipping out of her room. 

Still dressed in her jeans and sweatshirt, she retraced her steps from earlier back towards the kitchen as she wondered if Madara would get offended if she rummaged through his cabinets. It was his idea after all for her to stay here. Hell, she wasn’t even given a choice.

However, that thought instantly vanished when she saw that despite the late hour, she wasn’t the only one awake. 

Madara was standing at the island counter. His phone was lying flat on the surface as he read from it while he held a glass of red wine. The bottle was uncorked beside him, a glass’s worth missing. 

But it wasn’t the wine that made her stop and stare. It was his manner of dress. He stood barefoot in a pair of grey sweatpants and a navy-blue shirt that clung to the muscles of his shoulders and back. The sleeves stopped at his biceps, but his tattoos reached even further. She briefly wondered exactly how many he had. The one time she had seen him shirtless, she had been too preoccupied digging shrapnel out of his shoulder to look. 

Now, Sakura couldn’t contain her stare. Madara was a handsome man, that fact was irrefutable, but she had only ever seen him in suits up until this point. It was odd seeing him in anything but. It almost made him seem…normal.

As if sensing her presence, Madara picked his head up and glanced over to where she was lingering in the doorway. That same nervous energy from before bubbled in her stomach, but she forced herself not to turn tail and flee. 

“You’re up late,” Madara greeted her. “Trouble sleeping?”

For a moment, she thought he was aware of the nightmares that had been plaguing her since Tobirama had kidnapped her, but then she remembered it was almost four in the morning. Normal people weren’t usually awake at this time. 

“I uh…I’m just used to waking up early for work,” she told him as she cautiously entered the kitchen. She was an invited guest, but she still felt as if she was trespassing. “Besides, I think I slept through dinner.”

“Not to worry. I had my chef save you a plate,” Madara said unperturbed.

Before she could say anything more, he slipped his phone into his pocket before he set his wine down and skirted the island counter to open the fridge on the far side. Inside, he pulled out a dinner plate wrapped in plastic. He pulled off the cellophane wrapper and tossed it in a garbage in one of the lower cabinets before he set the dish in the microwave.

Curious, Sakura just watched him. She knew his shoulder was still healing, but he moved as if the injury had never happened. Either it really wasn’t bothering him or he had a talent for hiding his weaknesses. With his profession, she guessed the latter.

“I hope you enjoy roast duck,” he told her once it was cooking.

Her stomach was tempted into growling again at just the thought and she felt herself relax minutely at the ease in which Madara spoke to her. “Yes, thank you.”

“Can I interest you in a glass of wine?” he asked then, gesturing towards the bottle on the counter.

Sakura opened her mouth, the word ‘no’ already forming on her tongue, only for it to get caught behind her teeth. She thought about all the shit she had been through recently, from the shooting and the kidnappings and Tobirama to now this. She didn’t know what to make of anything anymore.

“Yeah,” Sakura eventually said. “Yeah, you can.”

If he heard how loaded her words were, he didn’t show it. He merely retrieved a wine glass from the cabinet and gave her a generous pour before he passed it to her. Their fingers brushed lightly and her nose caught the scent of something semi-familiar. It was subtle, smelling of cedar and something a little spicy. It smelled good.

It took her a moment to realize it was his cologne. She had smelled it once before in her apartment when Madara had treated her injury. At the time, there had been too many other things going on for her to appreciate it. She tried not to again now. 

Raising the glass to her lips, Sakura took a healthy sip of wine, barely tasting the oaky flavor before she swallowed. She let out a soft but deep sigh as the alcohol hit her stomach before she drank again, this time more slowly to savor the taste. In the meantime, Madara rummaged through the kitchen to gather her some utensils. 

It surprised Sakura how civil he was being. She supposed he had always been well-mannered towards her, but observing him made her frown. She wasn’t sure what to make of this situation. Only a few short months ago, she had been convinced Madara was going to kill her. Now she was in his kitchen, drinking wine with him. How had her life gotten so messed up in such a short time?

As her thoughts rolled through her head, a knot of unease began to swell in the pit of her stomach. Madara had wanted her to come here to keep her safe, but now that she thought about it, she didn’t entirely know what that entailed. 

How often was she allowed to leave? Was someone going to tail her to work? And her worst question yet: would she still be allowed to work? She had decided in the car that she would stand firm on that stance, but now that she was behind these big gates, she wondered how much influence she really had on her own life anymore. 

“I think we should discuss this…whatever this is,” Sakura finally forced herself to say.

Madara didn’t immediately answer as he pulled the plate from the microwave and set it down in front of her. “Eat first. There’s no sense in ruining your appetite.”

Sakura didn’t entirely like the sound of that, but the smells coming off the plate were utterly mouthwatering. The duck was seasoned and roasted perfectly, the vegetables crisp and the mashed potatoes buttery. She was almost embarrassed by how quickly she scarfed her dinner down. When was the last time she had eaten a homecooked meal? 

Madara said nothing of it. He simply sipped his wine silently until she finally pushed her plate away. He ensured both their glasses were topped off before he asked, “What do you want to know?”

Sakura swallowed another mouthful of wine for courage. “I want to know how this works. This protection detail thing.”

“Simple. You will have an escort whenever you choose to go into the city,” he told her.

“Whenever I choose?” she repeated.

As if her question surprised him, Madara’s brow arched curiously before he set his wine aside and focused his attention solely upon her. “You’re not a prisoner here, Sakura. You may leave any time you wish.”

Sakura knew that – or at lease she was pretty sure she knew that – but hearing the words directly from his mouth made the tension drain out of her. 

“But I have to have a guard with me?” she clarified. 

Madara nodded. “I don’t wish to impede on your privacy, but your safety takes priority. While here, you may use any of my facilities and go anywhere within the grounds of the property, except for the west wing on the third floor. That is for my own personal use.”

Sakura wondered if that was his bedroom or where he conducted his business, but she didn’t press. Instead, she sipped from her wine before asking another question, “How long will I remain here?”

“My hope is that if enough time passes, the Senju will forget about you or at the very least put you low on their priority list. Once we’re certain that has happened, we can look at moving you into your own safehouse in the city, closer to the hospital,” he told her.

Sakura nodded slowly as she processed that. There was no clear time frame, which frustrated her but she understood there was no way of knowing when she would fade from Tobirama’s memory. He certainly would never fade from hers.

“Okay,” Sakura said after a few minutes of silence. “But I do have one condition of my own.”

Madara’s brow arched slightly but he inclined his head, silent permission to continue.

“I don’t want an escort inside the hospital,” she told him. “There are plenty of people there and enough restricted areas that I’ll be safe. And I don’t want your men scaring my staff.”

Madara didn’t immediately reply. He studied her for a long moment, so long in fact that she wondered if she had already asked for too much, but then he nodded. “Very well. Anything else?”

“Yes,” she said before she lost her nerve. “No matter what happens, I get to keep my job.”

There was the smallest twitch in the corner of Madara’s mouth. She thought it might have been a smirk, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. “Of course,” he agreed.

Sakura flashed him a brief smile before she drank from her wine. She still didn’t know what her future held, but she felt better now that they had discussed the guidelines of this odd arrangement. Perhaps some of her concerns had been justified, but she was glad she was still able to keep most of her freedoms.

They shared another glass of wine together as they spoke about trivial things. With all the secrecy regarding Madara and his line of work, they mostly discussed Sakura. How she had decided at a young age to become a surgeon and how she had been appointed to attending on her thirtieth birthday. That had been two years ago. She was still young for a surgeon, but she had studied hard and put in countless hours. 

It was only when Sakura felt sleep begin to creep up on her again that she slid off the stool and stood. She was glad Madara hadn’t said anything about her working almost nonstop the last week just to avoid him. She had just needed time to collect her thoughts. Especially after what had happened in her living room.

Generally speaking, Sakura wasn’t a mean person. She didn’t enjoy the fact she had yelled and cursed at Madara. He had deserved it, but it didn’t mean she didn’t feel shameful about it.

As if sensing her hesitation, Madara gazed at her. His expression was vacant as it always was, but the fact he was silent gave her the feeling he was waiting for her to say whatever was on her mind.

“I uh…I wanted to talk about what happened. Before in my living room,” she began unsteadily.

Automatically, she thought of the scarring that was beginning to form on her inner thigh. It was a stark, painful reminder of what she had been through, but whenever she saw it, she also thought of Madara. If it hadn’t been for his help, the wound wouldn’t be healing as well as it was and the scarring likely would be significantly worse. 

She cleared her throat slightly. “I just wanted to say thanks and uh…well, thanks.”

Her words utterly escaped her, but Madara didn’t seem to mind. He simply inclined his head. “Sleep well, Sakura. These walls are well guarded.”

Somehow that simple statement put her at ease. This time when she returned to bed and her eyes finally slipped closed, it was to a deep, dreamless sleep. 

**_ tbc… _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's your one calm chapter. Enjoy it while it lasts! ha
> 
> Thank you for your continued support! I really appreciate all the comments and feedback!


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five** _

A week passed before Madara saw Sakura again. Which was odd considering she was living under his roof.

The only reason he knew when she was there was because the men he had assigned to escort her texted him whenever she was on her way to the hospital and when she was back behind the secure gates surrounding his property. Madara learned she worked an odd schedule, her shifts lasting anywhere between twelve and twenty hours.

Hina kept him updated as well. The older maid had been working for him for nearly ten years. She was aware of everything that happened within his household. It was impossible for her not to when Itachi, Shisui, Izuna and even Madara himself on occasion came home covered in blood, but she pretended not to know anything of their work and she updated him on important information whether he asked for it or not.

Such as informing him that Sakura usually ate a quick meal before showering and going to bed, only to wake some hours later to scarf down another fast bite before she took off again. It was like living with a cat. Self-sufficient and entirely independent.

Which is why it surprised him when Hina passed him in the hall one morning while performing her usual duties and told him Sakura wanted a word with him whenever he had a free minute.

“Is she pressed for time to work?” Madara asked.

The older maid shook her head. “Today is her day off. She’s in the sitting room on the first floor with Izuna.”

Madara arched his brow in surprise. _With Izuna?_

Hiding his bewilderment, he murmured his thanks before Hina departed to continue her duties. Just as the maid said, he found Sakura on the first floor with his younger brother.

The pair looked odd together with Izuna seated straight-backed on the far loveseat in a three-piece suit. Sakura, in contrast, was on the center couch directly in front of the television sitting crisscross in a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt that Madara was almost certain didn’t belonged to her. It was black with a stitched image of an orange frog on the front.

Her hair was tied back into a messy bun to keep it out of her face and to his interest, a pair of clear-framed glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. There was a notebook balanced on her right leg, a thick textbook on her left and a bowl of grapes between her legs. She looked more like a college student than a woman old enough to be a surgeon.

She seemed utterly engrossed in whatever they were watching while Izuna had an expression of utmost disturbance.

Peering at the television, Madara’s brows furrowed minutely when he couldn’t quite tell what he was seeing. It appeared to be a slimy reddish-grey _thing_ with white, stringy patches here and there. Then the image zoomed out just enough for him to put the pieces together. He was looking at the inside of someone’s abdomen.

“What are you two watching?” Madara finally asked.

They both glanced up at him sharply, obviously unaware of his presence until now.

“A horror movie,” Izuna said.

Sakura snatched up the remote and pressed pause. She shot Izuna a flat look before providing Madara an actual answer. “It’s a reconstruction of a ruptured kidney after a massive trauma.”

Madara had no idea what would tempt her to watch such a thing. Though judging by her notetaking, it must be educational.

“Fascinating,” he said, his tone relaying the opposite.

He eyed the frozen screen a moment more before his gaze turned to his younger brother. Not a word was said, but understanding passed between them and Izuna excused himself before he left the room.

Sakura watched him go with an expression of mild confusion before her sights returned to Madara as he stepped further into the room so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck to look at him.

“Hina informed me you requested a word with me,” Madara told her.

Sakura straightened slightly. “Uhm, yeah, I did.”

She didn’t say anything more as she tucked her pen into her notebook and closed it before she shut her textbook as well. She stacked them together and set them aside before she refocused her bright green eyes on him again.

“I have a lunch date with my friend this afternoon and I was wondering if one of your men could escort me into the city,” she told him.

Madara’s expression remained passive, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly perplexed. He wasn’t sure he entirely understood what she was asking. He had already informed her she was free to leave whenever she desired. Perhaps she wanted more security since she wasn’t just simply going to work.

“I will have Shisui escort you,” he said as if that ended the discussion.

To his surprise, Sakura shook her head. “Not Shisui.”

“Then I will call Itachi.”

“It can’t be Itachi either.”

Madara felt the urge to frown but he withheld it as he considered his other options. He had other things to see to today, but they weren’t until later that evening. “I suppose I could accompany you,” he said slowly.

However, Sakura bit her lower lip before she frowned. “How do I say this? It can’t be any of you.”

Puzzled, he shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand then.”

Sakura took a deep breath and held it a moment before she released a heavy sigh. “My friend Ino has a very specific talent of finding the most attractive man in the room, which usually leads to her either asking for their number or trying to get them to ask me out. Itachi is downright terrifying, I don’t trust Shisui not to flirt back and you’re…well, you’re you.”

Madara lowered himself down onto the arm of the couch adjacent to her before he crossed his arms loosely, his expression now showing a hint of his confusion. “I still do not follow.”

Sakura made a sound like what she was about to say physically pained her. “You stand out too much. I need someone who’s…unnoticeable.”

Madara could only blink as her meaning washed over him. “You mean unattractive.”

She nodded as her cheeks flushed a light pink in embarrassment. “Yes, that is exactly what I mean.”

It was the oddest request he could ever imagine her asking, but it was fairly simple. He had plenty of men that could fit the bill. “I will see what I can do,” he told her.

Sakura flashed him a bright smile as he stood to leave. “Thanks,” she said before she popped a green grape into her mouth.

Madara paused in the doorway when he heard the television resume. He couldn’t help but glance back only to find she was already engrossed in her bloody surgery again. The corner of his mouth curved up in an amused smirk. She was an odd character, but he would be lying if he said she was boring.

Then it occurred to him what she had just implied. She thought he was attractive. Masculine pride filled him before he forced the emotion down. Sakura had sounded as if she was simply stating a fact. Plus, she was young. Much too young for him. And besides, he was there as her protector, nothing more. It would only complicate things further. And it would only make her a bigger target for the Senju.

Turning away, Madara exited the sitting room before he slipped his phone out of his suit pants, determined to find a man ‘unnoticeable’ enough for Sakura’s liking.

xx

Lunch with Ino was exactly how lunch with Ino always went. It started with her fretting over how little she had seen Sakura lately and how she was working herself to the bone, which was immediately followed by them ordering a round of drinks as Ino updated Sakura on the latest gossip in their circle of friends.

For the first time, Sakura didn’t mind listening to Ino babble animatedly. It let her forget for a little while of the world she was now involved in and the man – her escort – who sat only a few tables away, keeping an eye on her. At least Madara had come through with her embarrassing request and found someone Ino wouldn’t even blink an eye at. Sakura hated to be mean, but he looked a little haggard like he had been punched one too many times when he was younger.

“So, I told Tenten if she didn’t go ask Neji to dance, I would for her.”

Sakura laughed. “And now they’re dating.”

“And now they’re dating,” Ino confirmed, her grin playful if not a little proud. The blonde sipped her chardonnay, taking a ten-second breather, before she fixed her blue gaze on Sakura. “So, where have you been lately?”

Sakura nearly choked on her wine. She recovered smoothly enough as she cleared her throat lightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I haven’t seen you in like the last month,” Ino said like it was obvious. “What’s new?”

Plastering on a smile, Sakura shrugged. “Not much. Just working.”

Ino waved her hand through the air like she was trying to physically brush away Sakura’s words. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Naruto said you’ve been there almost all week. How can you possibly expect to get laid when all you do is hang around the sick or dying?”

Sakura wondered what Ino would say if she knew how inaccurate that statement actually was. That it wasn’t her patients taking up her time, but rather an entire family of hardened criminals. _Attractive_ , hardened criminals. Ino would lose her mind if she knew Sakura had been living in Madara’s house for the last week.

He was fifty-percent intimidation and fifty-percent stop-and-stare attractive. He was in his early forties, but that didn’t negate from his appearance by any means. In fact, his age might add to his allure. Sakura almost wished she had accepted Madara’s invite to have him escort her, if only to see Ino’s reaction. Then again, Madara was a mob boss, the practical part of her mind reminded her somberly.

Shaking Madara from her mind, Sakura shot her friend a look. “Is that really all you care about?”

“Honestly, no,” Ino said. Then she cocked her brow pointedly. “But one of us has to try for your sake before you get all old and pruney.”

Sakura bit out a laugh. “Well what about you? Still seeing Choji?”

“Nah, he never wanted to do anything. It was driving me insane. But I’ve been flirting around with Shikamaru for a few days.”

 _More like fucking around,_ Sakura thought with a smirk. Then she frowned. “Wait, isn’t he seeing Temari?”

“Was, not anymore. Shikamaru hasn’t mentioned what happened, but I think he got tired of her bossing him around.”

Their conversation paused briefly as a waiter walked up to take their food orders. Ino ordered herself a salad while Sakura asked for a cheeseburger. Because after working so many long hours over the course of two weeks, she wanted to spoil herself a little.

The topic of Ino’s new relationship with Shikamaru continued almost entirely through lunch until Sakura finally asked Ino about her new business in cosmetology. Her best friend took off on a long story of all the crazy people she had been dealing with from brides and bridesmaids to young high school girls getting ready for their school dances. Apparently, there wasn’t that big of a difference between the two ages. They were equally eccentric and demanding.

Their easy conversation continued until Ino’s plate was empty and Sakura was too full to eat anymore. Ino stole a few fries off her dish before she finally sat back.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” Ino asked.

Sakura’s wine glass paused halfway to her lips when she heard the change in Ino’s tone, the subtle slide of playful to serious. Her friend knew something was wrong.

Putting her glass to her lips, Sakura made herself to drink a mouthful as calmly as she could before she shrugged one shoulder with a forced smile. “Nothing’s going on.”

“You’re lying,” Ino said with the utmost certainty. Her sapphire gaze was utterly unwavering. “I can tell something happened to you. Something serious. I can see it in your face. What is it?”

Sakura’s smile faded as she wondered not for the first time over the course of their long friendship how Ino could read her so easily. She wondered if Ino knew she had been purposely keeping her at arm’s length, pretending she was busy or tired from working long hours. Sakura was almost certain now Ino and Naruto had been discussing her strange behavior. It was no coincidence Ino had texted Sakura first thing this morning on her only day off all week to demand they meet for lunch. There were no excuses Sakura could give that wouldn’t make her best friend suspicious.

At least Ino had picked a quiet, little place to eat. It was still in the heart of the city, but the café was tucked away in a private corner. Sakura doubted anyone besides her escort would see her with Ino.

When Sakura remained silent, Ino’s expression shifted to something full of concern. She reached across the table to rest her hand over Sakura’s. “You can tell me,” she said softly. “You can trust me.”

That was probably true, but it wasn’t something Sakura was willing to risk. This was one secret she could never tell her best friend. No matter how hard the words threatened to claw themselves out of her throat.

“It’s nothing, Ino,” she said with a smile.

Ino saw right through it. Her frown deepened. “You’ve never been this guarded with me before.”

Guilt settled in the pit of Sakura’s stomach and twisted like writhing snakes, but she held her ground firmly. This was one thing she couldn’t back down on.

The rest of their lunch soured a little after that. Ino tried to keep the hurt off her face, but Sakura could still see how upset her friend was. Ino left first after paying the bill. Sakura faked having to use the bathroom so Ino wouldn’t see her leave with a strange man.

When Sakura came back out, her escort was still sitting at the same table, his attention focused on his phone. She took one step towards him. Only to stop. She wondered how long it had been since the last time she had been able to do something on her own. Totally and utterly alone without any tails or escorts or mafia members following her. She bit her lower lip as she weighed her next actions.

Then, without a backward glance, Sakura slipped out the side door.

She didn’t plan on going far. There was a multi-use building across the street with a bank, a handful of clothing stores and a bookstore. That was what interested Sakura the most. She would go there for only a few minutes, maybe buy a book or two, before she would wait for her escort at the car only a few blocks away.

The book shop shared its space on the third floor with a designer retailer. They sold custom-tailored suits and expensive, flashy wristwatches, but Sakura was hardly interested in any of that. It was books that brought her comfort.

She strolled through the aisles, taking her time looking at the different selections the store had. History, romance, fashion, and most importantly, medicine. She stopped before the rows of shelves and scanned the titles. She pulled out one text and skimmed through the first few pages before returning it to its spot and grabbing another.

Sakura did this for a while until she found an interesting story on true accounts in the ER. She read the first chapter or two before she closed it. She was about to return it to the shelf when something caught the corner of her eye.

No, not something. _Someone_.

Tobirama was standing near the entrance to the shop with all the suits. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt under a leather jacket while he talked on the phone. He didn’t seem to have noticed her, but her heart began to pound in her chest like she had just ran a marathon. She nearly dropped the book in her hand, but recovered quickly as she ducked below the short bookcase and slid the text back into the shelf.

Her mind reeled. She knew she needed to get out.

Tobirama was standing in front of the store, blocking both the staircase and the elevator in the middle of the building. She was effectively trapped. The best she could hope for was that he would leave or go far enough into the designer store for her to sneak by.

Unless there was an emergency exit.

Peering around, Sakura’s eyes searched the far corners of the bookstore until she saw a familiar exit sign illuminated in LED green lights. Without pause, she made her way towards it, trying to keep her head low while also not drawing attention to herself.

“Can I help you find anything today?” an employee asked, suddenly appearing in front of her.

Startled, Sakura came to an abrupt halt before she smiled the best she could. “No, thank you.”

The younger woman returned her smile. “Okay, well let me know if you do. My name is Taka. I’d be happy to help.”

“Thanks,” Sakura said before she stepped around the worker and continued towards the back exit.

Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be an alarm attached to the door and Sakura slipped inside the stairwell without a backward glance. She could only hope Tobirama was too busy on his phone to take notice of her.

With her heart still beating frantically, Sakura ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time. By the time she reached the bottom floor, she was gasping for air, but she didn’t slow as she pushed open the door at the bottom. It led to the lobby and she all but ran towards the front doors, her eyes flickering between the elevator and the main stairs.

She was so focused on looking back that she didn’t notice the person in front of her until she slammed into them hard enough to nearly knock herself off her feet. They steadied her with a strong, unyielding grip.

“Sakura.”

Fear made her freeze in place. Only for overwhelming relief to fill her when she recognized the person before her. “Itachi,” she breathed. She had never been happy to see him until this very moment.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. He loosened his grasp but didn’t release her completely as he scanned the faces around them. “Where is your escort?”

“I don’t know. I left him at the café.” She shook her head before continuing quickly, “But it doesn’t matter. We have to go. Tobirama is here.”

Sakura tried to move towards the entrance of the building, but Itachi didn’t budge. She might have had better luck trying to move the building itself.

“I know. I have been tracking him,” he said. Then he stared down at her, his dark eyes narrowing. “How do you know?”

“I saw him on the third floor. At that clothing store,” she said, pointing upwards.

“You saw him?” Itachi repeated, his fingers tightening again. “Did he see you?”

“No. I mean, I don’t think so.”

Just as the words left her mouth, they heard the elevator whirl to life. The numbers showed it was on the third floor before it began to count down. Sakura started to tremble.

“We need to get you out of here,” Itachi said, his tone mildly frustrated like he was annoyed he had to deal with her now.

Sakura was too frightened to resist him. He pulled her through the lobby towards another set of stairs that led down to the underground parking garage. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the cement box as they hurried down the lines of cars.

“You shouldn’t be here. You should not have left your escort,” Itachi said, his voice still tight with irritation. The grip he had on her arm hadn’t loosened either.

Even terrified, Sakura felt her own anger stir. “I just wanted two minutes to myself. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”

“And what do you think now?” he retorted.

They glared at each other as they continued their rapid pace. Behind them, the sound of a door closing echoed sharply through the garage. With his free hand, Itachi unholstered his weapon. He kept it low and pressed to his thigh, the black gun camouflaged against his black suit. They slipped behind a stone, support pillar just as a handful of gunshots filled the air.

Sakura yelped as Itachi pushed her down onto the ground. Her forearm and knees stung where they made hard contact with the concrete, but it passed quickly from her mind when she looked behind her to see Itachi sprawled on the ground, his gun laying abandoned a few feet away as blood dripped from a tear in his suit pants. He hadn’t pushed her; he had dragged her down after being hit in the leg.

“Shit,” she cursed.

She scrambled to kneel beside him before she tried to push the fabric out of the way. Itachi quickly stopped her. He grabbed her wrist and reached into his pocket before he withdrew a set of car keys and shoved them into her hand.

“My car is parked on the second level, third stall from the ramp,” he told her. “Take it and get yourself out of here.”

Sakura stared at him like he was crazy. “I’m not leaving you.”

A look of utter frustration replaced the pain lining his expression as he glared at her. “I’m telling you to.”

“And I’m telling you I won’t.”

“Go.”

“No!”

“Well, well, well. Isn’t that just sweet,” a third person said.

At the sound of that voice, Sakura’s blood turned to ice. She was frozen in place as a set of footsteps echoed through the parking garage, their slow and unhurried pace resounding in her head as they drew closer and closer.

Then her fight or flight response kicked in.

Faster than lightning, Sakura snatched up Itachi’s discarded weapon and spun around on her knees. The barrel of the gun landed on Tobirama the instant he rounded the pillar.

He looked just like she remembered from his tattoos and unfeeling, steely eyes to his manner of dress and casual stance. He had one hand in the pocket of his jeans while the other held his gun lazily. It was pointed down and resting at his side like he had no intention of using it. Sakura knew otherwise.

“Hello again, little treasure,” Tobirama greeted pleasantly.

At the pet name, fear and anger twisted into a tight ball in her chest until she was certain her heart had turned to steel. She had never held a gun before, much less shot one, but that didn’t stop her from gripping it tighter until her knuckles turned white.

“Why so hostile?” Tobirama asked, a faint smirk curling in the corner of his mouth. “Did you not enjoy my company last time? I greatly enjoyed yours.”

The cuts on the inside of her thigh ached as if reminding her how dangerous the man in front of her was. Her eyes narrowed as all the feelings she had been trying to suppress since that night came forward. Pain, humiliation, shame, disgust, rage, _hate_.

Beside her, Itachi shifted closer until his breath ghosted over the shell of her ear. “Lock your wrists. Stand your ground,” he murmured just loud enough for her to hear.

He wasn’t telling her to shoot Tobirama, but he was telling her how if that was what she chose. She locked her wrists.

“Fuck off, Tobirama.”

“Oh, kitty has claws,” he said with a tone of amusement.

“Kitty has bullets. And if you don’t turn around and walk away, you’ll meet them personally,” she retorted, her animosity channeling her words.

His budding smirk bloomed before he raised the hand holding his gun to scratch at his chin. “I knew you knew more than you were telling. You said you didn’t know a thing about the Uchiha and yet here you are with one of Madara’s little henchmen. I admit, you’re stronger than you look, but you won’t shoot me. You’re a surgeon. Your first oath is to do no harm.”

“Sometimes you have to break a bone to fix it.”

He chuckled. “I like the way you think, little treasure.”

Her grip on the weapon tightened. “ _Don’t call me that_ ,” she hissed.

“Then why don’t you do it? Why don’t you shoot me?” Tobirama taunted. When she didn’t move to pull the trigger, he took a single step forward, his voice softening until it was sweet and gentle with sympathy. “It’s because you can’t. You don’t want to kill me. You couldn’t live with yourself if you did.”

Sakura didn’t reply to that. Because the truth was, he was right. She wanted to make sure this man could never touch her again; she wanted this man dead. But not by her hand. How could she ever think of herself as a surgeon again if she knowingly killed someone? It would eat her up for the rest of her life.

Feeling her confidence wane, Sakura’s fingers slacken on the gun before she lowered the weapon. Tobirama chuckled, knowing he had called her bluff. He had won. He had total and utter control over her.

Then Sakura saw his gun glint in the harsh lights. Just like the knife had.

A millisecond before Tobirama raised his gun, Sakura lifted hers up again and pulled the trigger. Shock went through her wrist like a mini bolt of lightning and blood splattered through the air from Tobirama’s face before he hit the pavement. He didn’t move again.

From this angle, Sakura couldn’t see his face but she stared at his still body with wide eyes. Her heart thudded in her ears. She wanted to look away, to turn her back on the horrifying sin she had just committed, but she couldn’t.

It wasn’t until Itachi reached over and pried the weapon from her stiff fingers that she was broken from her spell. She flinched as a twinge of pain went through her wrist.

“I told you to lock your wrists,” Itachi said, holstering his weapon.

Slowly she raised her gaze until she met his black eyes. His expression was unreadable, but she thought she saw approval in his gaze.

When she blinked, it was gone. Not knowing what to say, Sakura turned her back on Tobirama as her attention returned to Itachi’s calf again. Fortunately, the wound looked non-urgent. It was bloody and messy, but nothing serious enough to need her immediate attention.

“Come on. Let’s get you somewhere where I can deal with this,” she said.

Sakura helped Itachi to his feet before they stumbled to the stairwell at the end of the row. Using the railing, he was able to hobble down to the second floor on his own. As soon as he was settled in the passenger seat of his car, she got them the hell out of there.

xx

Apparently Itachi hadn’t informed Madara of what happened for when they finally drove through the towering gates that bordered his property, the driveway was empty. There wasn’t a single person present besides a staff member watering a rose bush on the side yard. It was quiet, almost eerily so, especially after what they had just been through.

Not a single word was exchanged between them as Sakura parked Itachi’s car out front before she helped him out of the passenger seat. With his arm thrown over her shoulder, they limped into the house.

The entrance hall was just as empty. Sakura half-kicked the door closed behind them before she glanced at Itachi. “Is there a place you guys normally stitch yourselves up?”

He nodded towards a hall on the right. “There’s a secondary office with a bathroom attached-”

“You’re back early, Itachi.”

The pair looked up to find Shisui standing at the top of the left staircase. He was staring down at them, his expression surprised and then confused when he noticed Sakura before it finally turned to concern when he spotted the blood dripping on the tiles from Itachi’s leg.

“What the hell happened?”

Itachi waited until his cousin descended the stairs before telling him, “There was a small incident.”

“Fuck, you’ve got to be kidding me. How bad?” Shisui asked, running a hand through his mess of curls.

“A single bullet, but not bad,” Sakura replied. “Could be worse.”

Shisui shot her a look that said it clearly was bad, making her glance at Itachi in confusion. He shared the sentiment with her. “What’s going on?” Itachi asked, picking up on his older cousin’s anxiousness.

“Mikoto’s here.”

The pair of cousins exchanged a look Sakura didn’t understand before Itachi cursed under his breath. He limped forward. “We need to move to the office now.”

But even as the words passed his lips, the sound of voices from elsewhere in the house reached Sakura’s ears. They all glanced up as Madara and the most beautiful woman Sakura had ever seen appeared at the top of the banister. She wore a black evening gown that cascaded down to the floor and hugged her curves in all the right places. Even next to Madara who was in a powerful black and white, three-piece suit, she looked like someone not to cross. Sakura assumed this was Mikoto.

Whatever she and Madara were discussing immediately fell to the wayside when they noticed the trio in the entryway. Madara’s gaze lingered on Sakura. There was no change in his expression, but she could see he was trying to put the pieces together: why she wasn’t with her escort, why she was with Itachi and why was Itachi bleeding.

Mikoto’s eyes widened the instant her gaze landed on Itachi. “Oh dear,” she said before she picked up the hem of her dress and rapidly descended the stairs. “What happened? Are you alright?”

As soon as she was within range, she cupped Itachi’s face and peered at him worriedly. With the hand not draped over Sakura’s shoulder, he just as quickly pulled her touch away. “Yes, mother. I’m fine.”

_Mother?_

Sakura blinked in surprise. The woman before her had to be Madara’s age if not a little older, yet she looked like she could have passed for Ino’s sister. What were in the Uchiha genes that made them all appear so young?

“What happened?” Madara asked. He had followed Mikoto down the stairs at a much slower pace, but he stood before them now, his dark eyes sharp.

“Tobirama happened,” Itachi replied.

Mikoto released a sharp sigh. “You were supposed to be watching Tobirama, not making contact,” she scolded.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Itachi said. “Something came up.”

Mikoto looked like she wanted to say more, but Sakura piqued up then, “I should see to this before he loses anymore blood.”

The older woman peered at Sakura. Her dark eyes were unwavering as she pursed her lips. She looked like she had more to say, but as if her motherly instincts kicked in then, the intense expression on her face faded before she nodded. “Yes, of course.”

Sakura and Itachi shared a side-glance as she turned and began to lead them down the hall. A silent appreciation passed between them. Itachi had covered for her for the time being about the incident being her fault and she had postponed the fretting and chastising from his mother to a later date.

As soon as Sakura looked away again, she caught Madara’s eye. He was still watching her closely. Immediately she knew he had put the pieces together and she cursed inwardly. No doubt he would have words with her after this.

Mikoto led the way to an office down the hall. It was decorated in yellows and browns. Large, gold framed pictures of landscapes hung on the walls while a massive, brown rug was draped in the center of the room. There was a sturdy, oak desk towards the window in the back with brown, leather chairs arranged before it. Off to one side was a connected bathroom and a leather couch on the opposite wall.

Sakura made a beeline to the couch. She helped set Itachi down before she grabbed a pair of scissors from the desk and made quick work of his pants suit.

“Shisui, in my bathroom under the sink is a medical kit. I want you to bring it to me. All of it,” she said.

She didn’t look up to see if he was obeying her, but a few minutes later, he dropped the large, heavy bag she had described beside her. If anyone was curious by the fact she had stocked up on medical supplies, they didn’t say anything and she didn’t bother to explain it.

Without another word, Sakura got to work. She started Itachi on fluids and antibiotics before she shot a dose of pain killers into his system. Then she began cleaning and irrigating the wound, checking the extent of the damage and searching for any foreign objects before she started the tedious process of stitching him up.

All the while, Itachi explained what had happened. He had left their abrupt meeting vague – perhaps for her benefit or perhaps because he still wasn’t completely sure how it had happened himself; in either case she was relieved – before telling them how Tobirama had confronted them in the garage.

Mikoto let out a worried gasp when he described how Tobirama had gotten a lucky shot on him. “Between the three of you,” she said, half-glaring at the men currently present, “you’re lucky you’re not all dead. You should all be eternally thankful to Dr. Haruno.”

A soft murmur went about the room, forcing Sakura to bite down on her smile before Itachi sat back against the couch, careful not to jostle his leg where she was just tying off her sutures.

“Well, it should hopefully be quiet for a little while now that Tobirama is dead,” Itachi replied.

The room abruptly went silent. “You killed Tobirama?” Shisui asked in astonishment.

When Itachi said nothing, every gaze fell upon Sakura. She didn’t dare meet them. Instead, she continued her work silently as that same feeling of guilt began to claw its way through her. It tore at the inside of her stomach and made her want to crawl up into a ball and hide.

Without looking up, she grabbed a roll of bandages out of her medical bag before she continued wrapping Itachi’s leg. It was Madara who broke the silence this time.

“How’s Itachi’s injury?” he asked, his voice as smooth and steady as ever.

She resisted the urge to sigh in relief. She was just glad he hadn’t asked her one of the more uncomfortable questions still lingering in the air. “Better than expected,” she told him. “The bullet was a through-and-through. He’ll have to stay off it for a little while, but it should heal just fine.”

“Good. Are you almost finished here?”

Securing the bandage around Itachi’s leg, Sakura dropped the rest of the gauze into her bag before she sat back. “Yeah, I’m done now.”

Madara turned his sights to Shisui. “Have Hina make up a room for Itachi tonight. You can return him to town tomorrow. Mikoto, I am terribly sorry, but we will have to postpone the rest of our discussion until a later date.”

Mikoto was hardly upset. Concern for her son was still openly showing on her face. “That’s fine,” she said, her gaze never leaving Itachi.

Madara regarded her a second longer before he finally set his sights on Sakura. “If you wouldn’t mind waiting here a moment, Sakura, I would like a word.”

Sakura paled. Was he angry she had put herself in danger after he had worked so hard to keep her safe or was he relieved she was unharmed? Would he take away her freedoms? Would he no longer allow her outside the grounds to work?

Even as all these thoughts swirled around, she forced herself to swallow and nod. “Of course.”

With that decided, Shisui grabbed Itachi’s fluids and helped his younger cousin off the couch before they hobbled out of the room with Mikoto in tow. Madara followed, closing the door behind him softly.

Alone, the silence was deafening. Sakura stared at the door for a full minute before her gaze dropped down to her hands. They were covered in blood as were the tools on the low-sitting coffee table she had used to stitch up Itachi. Unable to sit still, she gathered them up before she crossed the room to the bathroom.

Inside, Sakura warmed the water before she scrubbed her hands clean and sterilized her equipment. Madara still wasn’t back when she entered the room again, but she kept herself busy by repacking her medical bag.

Nervous energy began to bubble in the pit of her stomach after she finished. She tried to distract herself by peering at the objects around the room, but her anxiety continued to build. When the door opened again, Sakura shot to her feet. She opened her mouth only to close it again, not sure what to say.

Madara shut the door soundlessly behind him. “Please sit down, Sakura,” he said calmly as he crossed the room. She obeyed immediately. “Can I get you a drink?”

He didn’t wait for a reply before he stopped at the minibar in the far corner and poured an amber-colored liquor into a crystal glass. When he returned to her, he pushed it into her fingers. Sakura had to hold it with both hands to keep herself from dropping it.

Only once she had swallowed a mouthful of the burning liquid did he ask, “Are you injured?”

Sakura shook her head just as the scrapes on her knees from when Itachi had dragged her down onto the concrete began to ache. Still, they were minor. She doubted they even needed cleaning.

“No, I’m fine,” she murmured.

Madara scrutinized her face for a long minute before he turned and disappeared into the bathroom. She heard the faucet turn on but she couldn’t see what he was doing inside. She used the moment alone to swallow another large mouthful of liquor. She was going to need it for wherever this conversation went next.

Less than a minute later, Madara returned and sat on the coffee table in front of her. With one hand, he grasped her jaw before he began dapping at her face with a damp wash cloth with the other. His touch was warm. Stunned, Sakura could only sit there, wide-eyed. She had no earthly idea what had possessed him to do such a thing.

Then it hit her. She had Tobirama’s blood on her face from when she had pulled the trigger.

The memory of what happened made her stomach lurch again, but she swallowed it down as she forced herself to focus on something else, anything else. Her gaze landed on Madara.

This close, she noticed there were little specks of grey in his dark eyes, and his hair looked silky and feather-soft in the warm, afternoon sun shining through the window. He had discarded his suit jacket at some point, leaving him in his vest and button-up shirt. He had rolled up his sleeves, revealing the numerous tattoos along his forearms. She eyed them now.

He had so many images branded into his skin. An ace of spades, a rose, a conspiracy of ravens, a pocket watch with the hands frozen on twelve. Sakura wondered if it was supposed to be noon or midnight. Each image had clean, crisp lines that blended in with the picture next to it. She had never really entertained the idea of getting any tattoos herself, but the ink really was some of the most beautiful artwork she had ever seen.

When Madara was satisfied he had gotten it all, he withdrew the wash cloth before he released his grasp on her jaw. Unconsciously Sakura tried to follow his touch until she remembered herself. She forced herself to sit back before she gazed down at the brandy in her hands. She could feel Madara’s gaze on her, but she didn’t look up.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said. His tone was soft but there was the edge of an order in his voice.

Still, Sakura didn’t immediately answer. Everything was wrong. She had disobeyed Madara’s request to keep her escort close; she had put herself and Itachi in danger; she was worried her freedoms were about to be stripped from her right before her eyes, and she had _shot_ someone for god’s sake.

But there was one thing that was bothering her even more than all of that.

“Tobirama isn’t dead,” Sakura finally blurted out.

If Madara was at all surprised, he didn’t show it. He simply set the wash cloth aside as he said, “Itachi told me the rest of what happened. He said you killed Tobirama.”

“I shot him, but I didn’t kill him,” she corrected. Then she frowned. “Even as I pulled the trigger, I knew I couldn’t do it.”

Looking back, it was obvious Tobirama was playing dead, if only to survive to fight another day. There would have been more blood from a head injury that severe.

Madara’s brow arched. “You tried to miss him.”

Sakura nodded as tears threatened to build in the corners of her eyes. “I know it was stupid of me and I know I made myself a bigger target for the Senju, but I just couldn’t do it.”

“You did what you had to do. It isn’t in your nature to kill.”

“I’ll never be safe again,” she shook her head. “He’ll hunt me for the rest of my life. I-”

Sakura cut off abruptly when Madara grasped her chin. His grip wasn’t hard, but it was firm enough to make her look at him. When she met his gaze, his expression was unreadable but his eyes were unwavering. They sucked her in like a blackhole.

“You are under my protection. I will always keep you safe. Do you understand?”

There was no room for argument in Madara’s voice and she found herself nodding as the familiar scent of his cologne enveloped her. It gave her a sense of safety and security. “Yes.”

Madara held her gaze a moment more before he finally released her and gestured towards her glass. “Finish that and let’s get you a new one.”

She didn’t argue as she tossed back the rest of her drink and handed her empty glass to Madara to refill.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your continued support! This fic has been such a blast to share with you all.
> 
> If you want updates to continue, please don't forget to drop a comment! It's nice that so many of you like to leave kudos but it doesn't mean anything to me unless I know you're there. Even just a 'thanks' or 'I like this' or an emoji to let me know someone is on the other side of the screen is appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**_Under the Knife  
Chapter Six_ **

Blood soaked into Madara’s shirt. It speckled the backs of his hands and stained the cuffs of his suit. The metallic scent lingered on his skin and in his car. He eyed the crimson with a frown, more annoyed his deal had gone south rather than the blood itself.

In all honesty, he hadn’t expected a good outcome. The Inuzukas had always been a little fond of the Senjus and Gaku had been testing Madara’s patience the last several months with late payments. Still, he had hoped this meeting could have ended with a little less bloodshed.

The moment Madara pulled to a stop in his driveway and shifted his car into park, a staff member opened his door for him. Madara slipped out of the driver’s seat and passed the keys to the older gentlemen. “I will need this detailed,” he ordered.

The man bowed respectfully. “Of course, sir. I will have it ready this afternoon.”

That was one thing Madara appreciated about older staff; they tended not to ask questions. They knew if they did what they were told, they would be protected and provided a handsome paycheck. It had taken Madara a couple of tries in his younger years to learn that.

Ascending the main staircase, Madara followed the hall to the right until he reached a second stairway that led to the third floor. His bedroom was located in the center of the house. Just like the main entryway, it was decorated in blacks and whites and golds. Off to the left side was a slightly raised platform where his king-sized bed resided. The comforter and pillows were perfectly straight and orderly. Exactly how Hina had left it for him the night before.

On the far wall were several floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a full view of the grounds with a balcony positioned in the center on the occasion he chose to relax outside.

Madara followed the hall opposite his bed now as he made his way towards the bathroom. He discarded his tie as he flipped on the light switch and shrugged out of his suit jacket as he opened the shower door to allow the water to warm. The rest of his soiled clothes went after that. He piled them on the floor where he knew Hina would collect them later to see if they could be salvaged. Judging by the amount of blood on the material, he was doubtful.

Madara made quick work of scrubbing the sticky crimson from his skin and hair before he stepped out of the shower and searched his wardrobe for another suit. He had another job to see to today. After that, he would catch up on the rest he had missed the night before.

Once his hair was dry and the cufflinks of his new outfit were perfectly in place, Madara left his room. He descended the stairs as he stole a quick glance off his freshly polished watch. He had just enough time for a cup of coffee before he needed to leave for his next appointment.

To his utter surprise, he found Itachi and Sakura in the kitchen. They had their heads bent together at the far side of the island counter as Sakura sat at one of the stools, her leg tucked under her, while Itachi stood beside her with his crutches under his arms. His nephew was observing Sakura as she assembled a series of metal pieces. Madara’s brow arched in surprise when he realized what was in her hands. It was a gun.

“Just like a scalpel, a gun is just another tool,” Itachi told her as she worked. “With some training, it is nothing to be intimidated by.”

Sakura didn’t reply but her brows pinched in concentration as she reassembled the weapon. In her final steps, she slid the magazine into place and racked the slide before she held the gun out towards Itachi, the barrel pointed down and a timid expression on her face.

With his crutches still tucked under his arms, Itachi took the weapon from her and inspected it before he nodded. “You’re a fast learner.”

A smile spread out across Sakura’s face at the compliment just as Itachi looked up and saw Madara in the doorway.

“Uncle, you’re home.”

Madara stepped into the room just as Sakura glanced over her shoulder. He didn’t miss the brief flicker of nervousness in her eyes like she had just been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been, but he also didn’t acknowledge it. He wasn’t sure whether he approved of Itachi teaching her such a thing or not.

“Only briefly,” Madara replied as he crossed the room.

He retrieved a mug from the cabinet and filled it with coffee from the coffeemaker before he took a much-needed sip. The bitter taste chased the wariness from his mind. It was only then that he recalled Sakura had been at work for the last two days.

He fixed his sights on her. “I am surprised you’re awake. I had assumed you would still be sleeping.”

“Normally yes, but we’re waiting on Shisui,” she told him before she looked around for her own mug.

Itachi reached across the counter where she had likely abandoned it in favor of his teachings before he slid it towards her. She flashed him a smile of thanks before taking a sip.

Madara eyed their interaction with veiled curiosity. It seemed whatever unease Sakura held towards Itachi had vanished since the incident with Tobirama a week ago.

Without hinting at his thoughts, Madara glanced at Itachi. His nephew was quick to provide an answer. “Shisui is taking me home and then swinging Sakura by her apartment.”

“I didn’t expect to be here this long and there’s a couple more things I need to grab,” Sakura followed up.

Swallowing another mouthful of coffee, Madara considered that. He knew Sakura was already comfortable with Shisui, but Itachi’s apartment was on the other side of town. It would be hours before she would be back here and able to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

“I will take you,” Madara said.

Sakura blinked in surprise.

“I have an errand to run in the city, but it should not take too long and your apartment is only a few blocks away,” he told her.

She glanced at Itachi, but he seemed indifferent to the change of plans. “Uh, okay,” she said. “I just need to grab my shoes.”

Ten minutes later, Sakura descended the main stairs. Madara was checking his phone by the front door, but he looked up as she approached. His gaze swept over her and she smiled, albeit a little nervously. She tried not to think about the fact the last time she had gotten into a car with Madara, they had both nearly been murdered and he had ended up needing surgery.

“Ready?” she asked.

Madara replied by opening the door for her. A Lexus was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the house and he opened the passenger door for her there too before closing it gently behind her.

The ride into town was quiet. Sakura kept her gaze directed outside most of the ride, but whenever she peered over at Madara, he seemed mostly lost in thought. His grip on the wheel was relaxed, but his lips were pressed together faintly and there was a small furrow between his brow. It occurred to her then that she had no idea what errand he had to run before taking her to her apartment. Was it a trip to the grocery store or something mafia-related? The thought of seeing more of Madara’s world made her stomach churn uncomfortably.

“So, where are we going?” Sakura eventually inquired after they merged onto the highway. “Or can I not ask that?”

Her question broke Madara out of his thoughts. He glanced at her, his gaze briefly dropping to where she was unknowingly fidgeting with the zipper of her jacket. She stopped immediately. “We’re headed to the city bank,” he told her. “I need to meet with the CFO. It shouldn’t take very long.”

“Oh,” she said before falling quiet again. She wasn’t entirely sure that answered her question, but she didn’t have the courage to be more specific than that.

Another exit passed in silence before Sakura couldn’t handle it anymore. She reached over and turned on the radio, briefly glancing in Madara’s direction. When he said nothing, she took it as permission and scanned through the channels until she found something she liked.

By the time they arrived in the city, it was nearly noon. Madara steered them into an underground parking garage of a large skyrise before he killed the engine.

“Should I wait here?” she asked, taking off her seatbelt slowly, a little unsure.

“No, you may come,” he told her so casually she wondered if her concerns were all misplaced.

Taking a deep breath, Sakura braced herself for whatever came next.

Madara led her to the elevator where he scanned a key card before pressing the button for the top floor. It opened up into a large lobby that was a complete opposite of the parking garage.

Downstairs, it was dim and quiet with only a few people coming and going. Here, the lights were bright and harsh while both men and women in business suits hurried back and forth like they had only seconds to make their deadlines. Everyone was dressed like they were the CEO. Even Madara had on a freshly pressed suit with a simple but expensive wristwatch. In her jeans and cream-colored jacket, Sakura had never felt more out of place. She suddenly wished she had just stayed in the car.

Without missing a beat, Madara slipped through the crowd, only glancing back once to make sure she was following. At the front desk, the receptionist looked up, her expression tight with stress. She eyed Sakura first, a disapproving frown on her lips before her gaze landed upon Madara. Her face abruptly lit up like it was Christmas morning.

“Sir, it’s good to see you again. How are you doing?” she asked cheerfully.

“Well, thank you,” Madara answered politely.

Obvious appreciation shown in the younger woman’s eyes and her smile turned a little sultry until Sakura couldn’t help but arch her brow. “Kakuzu is ready for you, but is there anything I can get you before your meeting?”

Sakura wasn’t sure if she meant coffee or a blowjob, but she withheld her snort at this woman’s obvious suggestion as Madara shook his head. “No, thank you,” he declined.

A disappointed look flashed across the receptionist’s face, but she smiled again before she stood from her chair and met them around her desk to lead them further into the active floor. She walked at a clipped pace that Sakura almost struggled to keep up with, a fact that would have been amusing given her three-inch heels if Sakura hadn’t felt like she had just stepped into a hurricane of people.

They only paused briefly in front of an office as the younger woman poked her head in. “I need the numbers for Uchiha-sama, please.”

Someone inside handed her a stack of documents that she immediately passed to Madara.

“I know Kakuzu said he emailed you the information, but I figured you might want to look at them again in writing,” she told him, her fingers purposely brushing Madara’s as she passed off the documents.

If he noticed, he didn’t show it as he accepted them from her and began scanning through the paperwork. Sakura could only watch in amazement as he followed the receptionist as he read. Even with his nose buried in the files, he navigated the floor easily. It seemed like even the busy employees got out of his way.

Then she realized it was because they were.

Wherever Madara walked, the men and women paused to let them through before they hurried off to continue their work. Some even inclined their heads respectfully even though Madara was engrossed in his reading. Did they know who he was? Did they know he was a mob boss?

At the other end of the floor, they finally reached an office that was almost three times the size of the other ones they had passed. The workplace itself was a mess with documents stacked on nearly every surface, including the floor and a chair in the corner.

A man with dark hair was standing behind a long table in the center of the room, a file in each hand. He wore a suit, but his jacket was draped hazardously over the back of his chair and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, emphasizing the muscles of his arms. It looked like his dry cleaner had accidentally shrunk his shirt with how tightly it gripped his biceps.

It took Sakura a moment to realize that this was the CFO Madara had told her about. Kakuzu, she thought the receptionist had said.

“Madara, it’s nice to see you again,” Kakuzu greeted. Then he glanced at her. “And who is this?”

“This is Sakura. She is with me today,” Madara replied as if that was all the other man needed to know.

Sakura nearly jumped when he slipped a hand to her lower back and urged her further inside the room. She didn’t understand why until she saw the receptionist standing a pace behind her, ready to shoo her out. Upon Madara’s gesture, the younger woman excused herself from the room, closing the door behind her with a brief flicker of irritation in Sakura’s direction. The business of the floor outside immediately faded.

Kakuzu eyed Sakura a moment before he gestured to the phone on the corner of his desk. “Can I get you something before we start?”

Madara shook his head. “No, this shouldn’t take too long.”

Just like that, the two men launched into a conversation about numbers and percentages and something about gains and losses. Sakura tried to follow, but accounting wasn’t something she had ever taken the time to learn too much about. She barely balanced her checkbook.

The one thing that did catch her notice was the amount of money they were discussing. It was somewhere in the billions. It was enough to make her eyes widen, but she made a point to keep her expression neutral. She suspected Kakuzu wasn’t used to having an audience while they discussed business, but his respect or fear of Madara kept him from questioning it.

“Your numbers for the first two months are accurate, but the third is off by almost three percent,” Madara said. He grabbed a pen from the corner of the desk they were leaning over and marked a few notes on the document before him before he passed it over.

Kakuzu was quiet for a long minute as he eyed the numbers before he nodded. “I’ll have my boys take a second look and find the missing numbers.”

“Send them over when they do and I will recheck the accounts,” Madara told him.

As if that wrapped up their discussion, Madara turned towards Sakura and gestured towards the door, a silent gesture they were finished. She followed him back through the floor, trying and failing to ignore the receptionists lingering gaze as she watched dejectedly as Madara left without a word, before they returned to the parking garage.

Two blocks away from the bank and Sakura’s head was still spinning as she tried to process what she had just seen. It was definitely not as bloody as the other aspects of mafia business that she had witnessed before, but it still didn’t put her at ease.

As if sensing her stare, Madara glanced at her. He didn’t say anything, but she knew the look well enough now to know that was his silent permission to say what was on her mind.

“Did I just witness some type of mafia corruption thing?” she asked.

A frown crossed Madara’s face as he peered at her again. “No. What makes you think that?”

“Because I just watched you discuss a bank’s billions of dollars with the CFO,” she said like it was obvious.

The light was red at the next intersection and they rolled to a stop before he explained, “I contract with the bank to review their quarterly reports. It gives them the opportunity to see if they have missed anything or if anyone is stealing from the company.”

“And that’s legal?” she asked doubtfully.

“Very. Not all of my dealings are illegal,” he told her. When Sakura continued to look skeptical, his expression turned mildly curious. “Did you think I was bringing you to something criminal?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” she murmured.

Madara’s expression softened at that. “Fair enough, but I will have you know that moving forward I would never have you accompany me on an errand I thought you would be uncomfortable with.”

She eyed him a moment more before a grateful smile passed her lips. If that was the case, all those people at the bank probably didn’t know Madara was mafia. She thought of the young receptionist and her flirty smiles. The poor girl had no idea she was attempting to play with fire.

Sakura considered his meeting again as Madara eased off the brakes and steered them through the afternoon traffic. If what he was doing was legal, then he must actually be a contractor for the bank like he had said, which meant he must be good with numbers. Like borderline genius, if not actual genius. For some reason that surprised her. She had assumed his ruthlessness had been how he gained so much control over the city, not his intelligence.

Her eyes flickered to him again. “You must be pretty good with numbers to calculate those accounts.”

Madara nodded. “I am.”

“No, I mean like really good,” she said.

Madara shot her a flat look. “You sound surprised.”

“I just wasn’t expecting the Godfather of the Uchiha mafia to be a mathlete.”

Sakura had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from grinning as Madara glanced at her sharply. It still peeked out in the corners of her mouth and he relaxed again when he saw she was only teasing.

“I enjoy breaking down numbers,” he told her as they turned onto her street.

“Okay, but why?”

He pulled into a stall and killed the engine before he answered, “Probably for the same reason you enjoy cutting people open.”

A laugh bubbled out of her mouth. “Okay, fair enough. I promise I’m not being mean. I just wasn’t expecting you to be a nerd like me.”

An amused smirk crossed his face before they climbed out of the car. Together, they entered her building and took the elevator to her floor. Her apartment looked exactly as it had the last time she was there. Clean with everything in its place. It hardly looked lived in. Which was likely because it hadn’t been for near that of a month.

“I just need to grab a few things and then we can go,” Sakura called over her shoulder as she stepped towards her bedroom.

She left Madara to his own devices as she pulled a suitcase from her closet and began filling it with more clothes. She grabbed the journal she kept by her bed as well. Its pages were filled with medical notes she thought of in passing: research she wanted to look up and theories to explore later. She was just collecting a few more things from her closet when her phone rang from the entrance hall.

Exiting her room, Sakura found Madara standing in front of her bookcase. She wondered what he was doing there until she realized there were a half a dozen pictures in frames on the shelf. Immediately, she felt self-conscious about the photos, but she didn’t have time to say anything as she picked up her cell where she had left it on the counter with her apartment keys. Naruto was on the other end.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Oh good, you’re awake. I was worried you would still be sleeping after that surgery last night,” he said, his voice cheery as it always was.

“No, I’m up,” she told him.

“Good. I was just wondering if you still had that textbook you were telling me about the other day.”

A small frown crossed Sakura’s face as she tried to figure out what he was talking about. Then she recalled the conversation he was referring to. "Oh crap, I completely forgot. I can bring it by the hospital today if you want," she told him.

“That’s okay. I’ll just pick it up now,” he said, causing her to frown.

"What do you mean?"

“I mean I’m already at your apartment,” Naruto said as if that was the most normal thing in the world. “I’m about to get in the elevator.”

Sakura froze. “You’re what?”

“See ya in a few minutes!”

“Wait, Naruto-” she tried but he had already hung up.

She ran a stressed hand through her hair as she realized it was too late for her to hide Madara or have him leave. “Fuck,” she cursed.

“What is it?” Madara asked.

She looked at him to see he was watching her with a mildly concerned expression. It was then that she realized just how odd he looked in her modest living room. It was like a Gucci model standing in a Gap store. Not only did he obviously not fit in, but he stood out like a diamond amongst ash. What the hell was she going to tell Naruto?

"I was supposed to drop some notes off to my friend yesterday and I completely forgot," Sakura told Madara, unable to keep the anxiety out of her voice. "He's here now."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Sakura didn’t immediately answer as she bit her lip nervously. "Just please don't mention anything. I haven't exactly told anyone about...well, anything and I want to keep it that way."

Madara’s face was a perfect mask when he nodded. “Of course.”

That single confirmation nearly made her weak with relief, but her worries returned almost immediately as she hurried to answer the door.

Naruto stood on the other side in a pair of jeans and a bright orange shirt under a black, zip up sweatshirt. He grinned at her the moment she opened the door. “Miss me?”

“I just saw you like four hours ago,” she told him flatly but there was a smile curling in the corner of her mouth. It was hard to be annoyed at him for too long. Even when he did drop by randomly.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he smiled before he pushed passed her to enter her apartment. “That trauma was crazy last night. I can’t believe you’re awake and dressed no less.

“You were there too,” she reminded him needlessly as she closed the door. “Why aren’t you still in bed?”

“I have a lunch date today.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. “What? You’re going out with Hinata?”

He stopped just before he reached the living room to turn and look at her, a genuinely confused look on his face. “How do you know?”

Only because everyone in their group of friends knew Hinata had been crushing on him since college. Sakura didn’t say that though and she covered her slip up by shrugging faintly. “I think Hinata had mentioned something about it.”

That was a good enough answer for Naruto and he turned around only to stop dead when he saw Madara standing there. He blinked, a little bewildered to find she wasn’t alone. "Oh sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

“Not at all. This is Madara. He’s my uh…we were just–we’re dating,” she blurted out.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Sakura regretted them. Madara shot her a look while Naruto’s back was turned, but she refused to acknowledge it.

Naruto stared at her stupefied. “You’re dating? I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“It…sorta just happened,” she added much slower.

Naruto blinked again before he turned around and extended his hand out to Madara. “I’m Naruto. I work at the hospital with Sakura. Nice to meet you.”

With his attention solely fixed upon Madara, Sakura raked her hand down her face at her stupidity before she shot Madara an apologetic look. He saw it but didn’t react to it as he accepted Naruto’s hand. “Pleasure.”

“So, you two are dating, huh?” Naruto said. His usual grin was in place, but it was a bit mischievous like he was about to pry into their personal affairs. “How long has this been going on?”

“Not long,” she replied tightly.

“Have you two banged yet?”

Sakura didn’t even dare glance in Madara’s direction as she inhaled a calming breath to keep herself from strangling her friend. “I will dissect you slowly,” she warned.

Naruto held up his hands defensively but his smirk lingered. “Fine, then at least tell me how you two met.”

She opened her mouth but found herself at a loss of what to say. She hadn’t thought that far ahead in her lie. To her astonishment, Madara saved her.

“We met in the International District at the main market,” he said, causing Sakura to look at him sharply.

That was exactly where they had met. After Izuna had dragged her through the building and into the warehouse in the back. She had heard before that the best lies were intertwined with truth, but that didn’t mean she wanted Naruto to know any of that.

“I accidentally rear-ended his Lexus in the parking lot,” Sakura added, taking control of the conversation.

Naruto snorted. “Smooth.” Then understanding passed over his face. “Wait, did this happen like a month ago? Was that why you were so anxious and had trouble sleeping?”

Sakura paled at Naruto’s slip. She could feel Madara’s stare on her, but she refused to look at him as she picked up the textbook Naruto had come for and pushed it into his arms. “What time is your date with Hinata? You don’t want to be late.”

The fates must have been on her side for Naruto glanced at the time on his phone and physically started. “Oh crap, I gotta go. Nice meeting you,” he smiled at Madara before he turned to her. “I wanna hear more about this later.”

Then he was out the door, leaving Sakura, Madara and an awkward tension in his wake. She dropped her face into her hand and took a deep breath before she dared peek at Madara. He was already looking at her, his dark eyes utterly piercing.

“Please don’t say anything,” she murmured. When he continued to watch her, she sighed. "It’s not like you’ll ever see each other again. Or at least you better never see him again.”

“And if he asks about me?” Madara inquired, unfazed by her mild threat.

She shrugged. “I’ll just tell him we broke up or something.”

Madara continued to observe her. She could tell there was more he wanted to talk about, but she was exhausted and far too embarrassed to continue this discussion. Without another word, she returned to her bedroom to finish packing.

Fortunately, Madara didn’t bring up the topic again on the car ride back. They hardly spoke at all, which was fine since all she really wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for the next two days. By the time they arrived back at Madara’s mansion, she could barely keep her eyes open.

She waved the staff’s help away and carried her suitcase to her room before she washed her face and brushed her teeth before climbing into bed. The mattress was softer than she remembered and the sheets smelled like freshly washed linens. She fell asleep almost immediately.

Only to be greeted in her dreams by Tobirama.

xx

It was well into the night when Madara finally shut down his computer. He clicked off the lamp on the corner of his desk before he stood and retrieved his jacket from the back of his chair. His watch informed him it was nearly two in the morning, but he didn’t make his way towards his bedroom. He was still waiting on word from Izuna.

Instead, Madara made his way down to the main floor, his jacket folded over his arm. He headed towards the kitchen, intent on grabbing a cup of coffee before he called his brother to check in on him; only for those plans to immediately fall to the wayside when he passed the sitting room and heard the television on.

Pausing in confusion, Madara backpedaled until he was standing in the entryway. His curiosity stirred when he found Sakura in the same place she always sat.

She was half-curled up in the corner of the loveseat with her elbow resting on the back of the couch, her fist propped up against her chin and her legs tucked up beside her. Her glasses were on her nose, her hair falling loose around her shoulders. Tonight, she was wearing that frog sweatshirt again and a pair of shorts, which wasn’t significant other than the fact that he hadn’t seen her legs since the night Shisui had found her in Tobirama’s warehouse. The night he had tended to the wound Tobirama had carved into her inner thigh.

With her position, Madara couldn’t see the scarring now but his eyes still lingered. She had nice legs. They were long and toned. Even if he could see the scars, he doubted that would take away from their appearance. Her skin looked silky soft and he suddenly had the urge to run his hands up her thighs to see for himself.

Abruptly shaking himself out of his thoughts, Madara forced his gaze to turn towards the television, lest his mind wander into more dangerous waters. Tonight, there was no trace of medical traumas on the screen, but instead some type of cooking competition. He risked a glance at Sakura again to see she seemed to barely be paying attention to it, her face tired and her eyes distant.

His less than appropriate train of thought vanished immediately as Madara wondered if she was having trouble sleeping. Her friend Naruto had let slip she was having difficulties. Madara had assumed her odd sleep schedule was due to her job, but he now suspected a large part of it was because of her new circumstances.

The moment Madara stepped into the room, Sakura looked up and flashed him a small smile in greeting. He laid his jacket over the back of the other couch before he peered at the television again. “No surgeries tonight?”

She shook her head. “Not tonight, I’m afraid.”

“Izuna will be most disappointed.”

That got a smile out of her. “I’m sure I can find another for him.”

Madara shared her smile before he gestured towards the vacant spot beside her. “May I join you?”

Surprise flickered across her expression but she inclined her head nevertheless. “Of course.”

They sat together quietly as they watched the cooking show she had on. It filled the silence comfortably and Madara waited until the next commercial break before he asked, “Do you work tomorrow?”

“Yes, but not until later in the afternoon,” she answered.

“My chef usually does her weekly grocery shopping tomorrow,” he told her. “If you need anything, she can pick it up for you.”

Another smile crossed her face. “Thank you.”

Madara inclined his head in response before they fell quiet again. He knew he needed to get ready to meet with Izuna soon, but he couldn’t bring himself to depart quite yet. He knew Sakura would be fine on her own, but his mind was still analyzing the events of that afternoon.

Madara didn’t mind Sakura had lied about the circumstances of their relationship to protect her secret and in fact, he had found her blunder quite amusing, but he didn’t like the implications of what her friend had said. There was something troubling her. Something deep enough that it was affecting her ability to rest.

“You can say it,” Sakura suddenly said.

Her words were so out of the blue that they nearly startled Madara out of his thoughts. He reigned control over his expression before he glanced in her direction, only to find she wasn’t looking at him at all.

“Say what?” he inquired.

She turned her attention away from the television to meet his gaze. “Whatever you're thinking. I can feel the wheels in your head turning from here.”

Madara withheld his reaction. He didn’t know how she had read him so easily, but he didn’t feel threatened. Not with her looking at him so calmly. “You’re having nightmares,” he stated.

An expression he couldn’t quite name passed behind her eyes before she nodded, “Yes.”

“Since when?”

She looked away from him then and he didn’t miss the way she rubbed her palm over her thigh like she was trying to push away phantom hands. “Since Tobirama’s abduction,” she finally murmured quietly.

“That was over a month ago.”

A small, sad smile crossed her face as she turned her head to look at him again. “This isn't a trauma you can help me with, Madara. Not this time.”

For some reason, her words settled deep in his chest. The mood between them turned somber and they fell into a silence that seemed to stretch on for a lifetime. The show ended only for another to take its place, but Madara still didn’t leave.

It took him a while to realize the twisting feeling in his gut was guilt. There were very few things he regretted in his life, but having Sakura become a target for Senju Tobirama was one of them. Looking back, he wished there had been another option. That there was another surgeon he could have called upon to treat Shisui, but there was no one else that could have done the job. No one as skilled that he didn’t believe he could have manipulated had it come to that.

Releasing a muted sigh, Madara dared a glance in her direction. Only to find Sakura was asleep. She was still in the same position except her cheek was now resting on the inside of her forearm against the back of the couch, making her glasses slightly askew.

Reaching over, Madara carefully slipped them off her face, causing Sakura to adjust in her sleep slightly. He set them on the side table just as she slid down the couch until her head was resting on his shoulder.

Madara fell absolutely still. His body was utterly tense as he peered down at her only to see she was still asleep. There was a small pinch between her brows, but as she settled down, it faded until a peaceful expression fell across her face. His own tension faded as he watched her. He wondered if she would be more comfortable laying down, but he didn’t want to risk moving her and waking her up. Not while her dreams were calm for the time being.

Alone in the silence, Madara considered that. Under normal circumstances, he would never allow anyone to touch him as she was touching him now, but he supposed this wasn’t normal circumstances. Sakura had been forced to sacrifice a great deal because of him. He supposed he could allow her this one courtesy.

Trying not to move too much, Madara grabbed the remote from the side-table and muted the television. It cast the room into silence and he glanced down at her again to ensure she hadn’t stirred. She continued to sleep on.

Even asleep like this, Madara could admit if only to himself that she really was a beautiful woman. Her skin looked feather-soft, and her lips were full and a pale pink that matched the color of her hair. This close, he could smell the slightly fruity scent of her shampoo, but it was her eyes that were his favorite. They were the purest shade of green that softened when she was happy and hardened into stony emeralds when she was agitated or focused. She was a most expressive woman; a fact he used to think would annoy him but with her, he found he enjoyed watching her emotions pass over her face.

She was highly intelligent and quick-witted. Itachi’s description of her encounter with Tobirama only reinforced the fact she had a great deal of inner strength and bravery. Perhaps she hadn’t been born into the world of crime, but she had the capability of meeting it head-on.

The desire to kiss her nearly overcame him. He wondered if she would push him away or if she would kiss him back. She had already made it clear she thought he was attractive, but he still stood for everything she was against. She was a surgeon, a healer. And Madara was a murderer.

 _But opposites attract,_ a small voice in the back of his head said.

At that moment, footsteps down the hall reached Madara’s ears abruptly. He glanced towards the sound and confirmed that they were in fact coming closer before he carefully extracted himself from Sakura. Cradling her head, he gently lowered her down until she was laying on the couch, a throw pillow tucked under her.

Madara grabbed the remote again and shut off the television just as Itachi entered the room. “Uncle-”

Madara held up a hand to silence him immediately. His nephew looked at him puzzled before his gaze dropped to the couch where Sakura was resting. Understanding passed over his face before he gestured down the hall, a silent message he would wait for Madara in the kitchen.

As soon as Itachi was gone, Madara went to the cabinet in the corner and withdrew a large, white blanket. He unfolded it and laid it over Sakura, careful not to wake her before he retrieved his jacket and went to meet Itachi.

In the doorway, he couldn’t help but pause as he glanced back at her, a rare smile pulling at the corners of her lips as he watched her doze.

Then his expression hardened as his thoughts returned to Itachi. There was only one reason he would be here. Izuna had found a lead on Tobirama’s whereabouts.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, Madara’s starting to have feelings for Sakura. They might mostly be sexual but they’re feelings nonetheless.
> 
> In my 10+ years in posting fanfiction, the reviews I received last chapter were hands-down the most amazing feedback I’ve ever gotten. You all really are the best fans. It’s really nice to see so many new names and I’m so thankful for all my regulars.
> 
> All your support pushed me to finish this chapter early and get it posted quickly, so if you enjoyed please don’t forget to leave a comment! I’m really curious how everyone feels about this chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter Seven_ **

****It was raining. Thick droplets fell from the sky and slickened the concrete. Even as the rain peppered his windshield, Madara kept his foot on the gas pedal, steering his Maserati down the dark highway and into the city.

In the passenger seat, Itachi was silent, the glow from his cell phone illuminating his face. He hadn’t told Madara much other than Izuna was awaiting him at the warehouse. That in and of itself was a good sign. Whatever his younger brother had found was something good. He stepped on the gas a little harder.

At a quarter to three in the morning, they arrived in the International District. Madara parked his car in the back between the market and the storage warehouse before he slipped out of the vehicle, Itachi behind him. His shoes echoed sharply as he approached the doors, his rain jacket billowing out behind him.

The men guarding the entrance jumped to attention when they noticed him and hurried to open the doors. Madara swept past them without a glance.

He followed the familiar open bays throughout the warehouse until he reached a second door tucked away unnoticed in the corner. A large, burly man was standing in front of it, but he slipped out of Madara’s way and pushed the door open for him, his eyes lowered respectfully.

Inside was a well-furnished room with lush carpets and one-of-a-kind, handcrafted tables and arm chairs. It was normally full of the Uchiha family’s investors and patrons, but it was empty now, except for Izuna and a handful of his men. They were playing cards in the corner as they waited for Izuna to give them their orders.

“What do you have?” Madara asked.

Izuna smirked. “More like _who_ do I have. I believe you’re familiar with Akimichi Torifu.”

At that name, Madara’s interest piqued. “You found him?”

“I did.”

His younger brother’s tone was almost sinister and it made satisfaction curl in the corners of Madara’s mouth until they had matching smiles. “Where is he?”

Izuna jerked his chin towards a door in the back. “With Shisui.”

“And you’re certain he has the information?”

“Torifu is Tobirama’s main guard,” Itachi answered. “He’s worked under him for near that of ten years. If he doesn’t have the information, then Tobirama has buried himself so far underground only Tobirama knows where he is.”

That answer was enough to satisfy Madara. Without another word, he turned and made his way towards the back room with Izuna and Itachi on his heels.

Inside, Madara was greeted to the sight of Shisui pummeling his fist into the face of a man sitting on a metal chair in the middle of the room. The prisoner’s hands were tied behind his back, leaving him utterly defenseless as Shisui did his worst. Two of his nephew’s men stood against the back wall as still as statues; silent support in case he needed anything.

Both their eyes flickered towards Madara as he entered the room before they abruptly stood up a little straighter, but he didn’t pay them any mind. The wet smack of knuckles against skin resounded twice more before Shisui finally looked up and realized he had company.

Immediately his nephew stepped back, causing the man’s head to lull forward. Blood dripped to the floor, creating a pool at his feet.

Madara didn’t blink at the mess. He had specifically chosen this room for interrogation. There was a hose with a grate on the far side of the floor where blood could be washed away and a vent in the high ceiling to allow the fumes of cleaning chemicals to escape. Close enough for Madara to talk business with his investors while also keeping an eye on anyone he wanted questioned.

“Has he said anything?” Madara asked.

Shisui shook his head before jerking it to the side to sweep his curls out of his eyes. Blood dripped from his raw knuckles and was splattered across his grey t-shirt. “I didn’t give him the opportunity. I figured I would warm him up for you.”

Madara said nothing but the look he shot Shisui was enough to show he was pleased with his nephew’s work before he crossed the room. His shoes echoed sharply against the concrete.

Their prisoner was a short, stocky man with a round belly. Blood made his reddish-brown hair stick to the side of his neck, but other than that and the blood trickling from his nose, he appeared otherwise uninjured. It seemed he had been grabbed by surprise.

“Akimichi Torifu,” Madara greeted. “Tobirama’s second-in-charge.”

The beaten man stirred slowly. He spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor between his feet before he picked his head up and glared at him. “Uchiha Madara, head bastard of the Uchiha family,” he returned.

Madara was hardly put off by his disrespect, but he bit back his frown. It seemed he was going to have to work to get the information he wanted tonight.

“This will be much less painful if you were to cooperate,” Madara told him. “Tell me where I can find Tobirama.”

The large man sneered, his teeth bloody. “How about I tell you where you can shove it?”

Madara flickered his gaze towards Shisui. Without a word, his nephew marched forward and landed a heavy swing against Torifu’s jaw. The sound echoed around the room and the man let out a low groan before he leaned over to spit out another mouthful of blood.

“Tell me where I can find Tobirama,” Madara repeated patiently. When the man remained silent, he switched tactics. “Tell me or I can ask your daughter when she goes to school this morning.”

Torifu’s expression was hard as he ground his teeth together before he finally relented. “I haven’t seen him in over a week.”

Madara didn’t have to prompt Shisui again before his knuckles met the man’s face hard enough to nearly knock him and the chair over.

A low curse escaped Torifu. "I'm telling the truth! I saw the boss a week ago. He didn't tell me anything, but it's obvious he's still pissed over what had happened with that chick and dipshit over there," he said, nodding towards Itachi.

“Did he say where he was going?” Madara asked.

With his hands still tied uncomfortably behind his back, Torifu shrugged. “Nope.”

“Do you want to try that again?” Madara prodded, his voice dangerously smooth. “This time I want you to think about your daughter when you answer.”

A frustrated sigh pressed out of the man’s nose before he snapped, “Tobirama didn’t tell me shit, okay? He probably went underground after that bitch shot him in the face.”

Even with the derogatory name, Madara bit back his smirk. It seemed Sakura had really done a number on Tobirama if he was laying low to give himself time to recover.

“The boss is pissed about what happened. He wants revenge. He wants her,” Torifu continued.

A protective spark suddenly flared in Madara’s chest and he couldn’t quite keep the frown off his face as he stared down at his captive. “Tobirama always aimed higher than he could possibly achieve. Even his brother is aware of that.”

“Then you underestimate Tobirama,” Torifu said. Then he smirked with dark pleasure. “That bitch is going to wish she was dead by the time the boss is through with her. He says he’ll put that pretty little mouth of hers to good use-”

Madara didn’t let him finish that sentence before he withdrew his gun and shot a single bullet through the man’s knee. He howled in excruciating pain before fat tears rolled down his face.

“There’s no need for such foul language here,” Madara said, his voice as cold and dangerous as black ice. Anger twisted deep in his gut but he kept that emotion to himself.

It took a couple of minutes, but to Torifu’s credit, he still managed to glare up at Madara. “Fuck you,” he snarled before he gathered a mouthful of blood and spat at Madara. It landed on his shoe.

Immediately Shisui stepped forward to retaliate, but Madara held up a hand to hold his nephew back. Instead Madara looked down at their prisoner like a disappointed parent. “I will allow you one more opportunity to save your daughter.”

Torifu’s face twisted in agony and unfathomable rage until he resembled more of a pig than a man. Hate burned in his beady eyes and it looked like all the world’s insults were building on his tongue until eventually he let out an infuriated sigh. “There’s a laundry facility on third street on the upper east side of town. Tobirama does most of his business there.”

This time, Madara didn’t bother to contain his smirk. “Thank you for your cooperation,” he said before he raised the barrel of his gun.

Torifu’s eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen. “Wait! You said-”

The sharp crack of Madara’s weapon silenced him. Torifu’s head snapped back before blood began to pool on the floor from the gaping wound in the back of his skull. Madara barely spared him a glance before he holstered his weapon and turned away.

Both of his nephews were leaning against the wall. Itachi looked like a bored spectator while Shisui was eyeing the body on the floor like a chore he didn’t feel like doing. A long sigh pressed out of his mouth as he pushed himself upright. “You want us to toss his body in the river?”

Madara considered that a moment before he shook his head. “No, I want to send Tobirama a message. One he has to acknowledge. We’ll hang his man up.”

“The upper east side?” Itachi asked.

“Precisely.”

With his orders given, Madara exited the room, leaving his nephews to do what they did best. Izuna followed him and sent his men to assist Itachi and Shisui.

He waited until the door closed before asking, “Are you sure this is the best idea?”

Madara didn’t glance at his younger brother as he examined his shoe. It was still covered in bloody spit and he used his pocket handkerchief to wipe it away before he dropped the cloth into the waste bin. “The best way to catch a rat is to lure it out of hiding.”

A frown passed Izuna’s face. “Except this is Tobirama we’re talking about. We’ve been at odds with the Senju for decades. Why are you suddenly on a war path?”

“Tobirama has always been an annoying fly, but he’s kept to the wall until now,” Madara told him. “I want him taken care of before he becomes a larger concern.”

“So do I, but do we really want to risk an all-out war?” Izuna asked. He leaned back against the large, varnished table in the center of the room before he crossed his arms. “In the last six months, Itachi, Shisui and yourself have all been hit. If we go after Tobirama, these attacks will increase. Not only for us, but for our men too.”

“I’m aware.”

“And you still want to proceed?”

“Do you not?” Madara countered. “If we back off, Tobirama will see it as a sign of weakness. His aggression will increase either way and I would prefer to be on the offensive rather than the defensive.”

A frown crossed his younger brother’s face as he considered that. Then he sighed, a sign of his agreement. “Be that as it may, Mikoto has her concerns. She wants a conference.”

Madara was hardly surprised. “When?”

“Now,” Izuna told him. “She and Fugaku will be here within the hour.”

Sure enough, less than an hour later Mikoto arrived with her husband in tow. Even given the late hour, they were dressed well. Under her rain coat, Mikoto wore a sharp business suit, her skirt wrinkle-free and her blouse pristine. Fugaku stood a head taller beside her in a suit, but his presence was easily dwarfed by his wife’s confidence.

“Good morning, Mikoto,” Madara greeted.

She smiled pleasantly. “Good morning, Madara, Izuna,” she said in turn.

His younger brother nodded. “Can we interest you in coffee?”

“No, thank you,” she declined. “Fugaku and I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I’m sure you have a busy morning ahead of you.”

Her eyes briefly darted to the door in the backroom as if she was aware of the murder that had occurred not much earlier. That was what Madara enjoyed about his cousin. She got straight to the point.

Madara gestured towards the table. “Let’s get to it then.”

They took their seats around the circular table, Izuna on his right and Fugaku on his left with Mikoto directly in front of him. Exactly how he preferred these discussions were.

“Let’s not pretend we’re unaware of your intentions,” Fugaku began. “We know you want to take Tobirama out. Our concern is that it will have consequences we may not want.”

“Such as?” Madara pressed.

“Such as retaliation.”

“Both Shisui and Itachi have already been hit. You too,” Mikoto added.

“That’s the consequences of the life we live,” Izuna defended. “Besides, Madara is correct in that Tobirama has become bolder. He made an attempt on Dr. Haruno and Itachi midday in a parking garage.”

Madara didn’t glance at his brother but gratitude filled him nevertheless. He knew Izuna was reluctant to agree with his decision, but he always had Madara’s back in the presence of others.

Mikoto’s lips pursed together. She and Fugaku shared a look before she released a silent sigh. “He has a point.” Then her gaze returned to Madara. “How do you plan to draw out Tobirama?”

“By doing what he attempted to do to me: by killing his men one-by-one,” Madara replied calmly.

Fugaku frowned. “That’s no easy task.”

“No one said it would be,” Madara agreed.

“It’s fortunate we were able to track down Akimichi Torifu fairly easily,” Izuna provided.

Mikoto’s expression turned curious. “How do I know that name?”

“He was Tobirama’s main man,” Izuna told her.

“Was?”

“Izuna found him last night,” Madara replied. “He was able to provide us with some most helpful information. Like the location of Tobirama’s primary business.”

A thoughtful expression crossed his cousin’s face as she considered that. She tapped her perfectly manicured nail against the table for a minute before it stopped. “Alright, Madara. I’ve always trusted your instincts and you’ve never let me down.”

A smile began to form on Madara’s face until Fugaku opened his mouth. “We don’t know that Tobirama cares about his men. We won’t know that the death of this Torifu will draw him out. It very well may, but we need a contingency plan to fall back on, worst case scenario.”

Izuna’s brow arched curiously. “Such as?”

Fugaku was quiet for a long moment. He rubbed his upper lip with his index finger as he thought, a plan already in his mind. The rest of them waited for him to say what he was thinking. “What of Dr. Haruno?”

“What of her?” Madara asked, his tone taking on a sharper note.

Fugaku didn’t notice. “She’s been of interest to Tobirama as of late. It would be easy to draw him out with a little help from her.”

Distaste immediately curled in the pit of Madara’s stomach. He respected Mikoto to no end but her choice in husband had much to be desired. Madara didn’t hate the man, but his constant need to make himself out to be more important than he was was irritating on a good day. This latest attempt quickly extinguished Madara’s patience.

He forced himself to take a measured breath before he spoke. “Right now, Dr. Haruno is willing to help us as far as her surgical ability goes. If we betray her trust, she will turn her back on us.”

“Not unless we don’t inform her of being involved in the plan,” Fugaku argued.

“You underestimate her intelligence,” Madara countered.

To his relief, Mikoto agreed. “Sakura has done much for us. Does she not deserve our protection and trust?”

Realizing he was outnumbered, Fugaku reached over and placed his hand over his wife’s softly, as if she was a delicate flower. “Of course, but this is years of war we are potentially facing. We should consider all our options.”

Madara’s eyes narrowed minutely. “Sakura’s safety is not an option. I will not consider it. This is the last I want to hear of it.”

Fugaku met his gaze with a frown. He looked as if he wanted to further argue his point, but he eventually backed down with begrudging respect.

Their conversation wrapped up quickly after that. Fugaku slipped through the exit, but Mikoto lingered beside Madara. “Torifu had a daughter,” she murmured loud enough for only him to hear. “That child is going to grow up without her father.”

“For that to happen, she would have needed a father in the first place. A gangster has no place having children.”

“I would disagree with that statement,” she said, obviously mindful of her own boys.

Madara bit back his smirk. “Yes, but between the two of us, you are the more respectable.”

“Don’t distract me with flattery,” she countered, but there was a hint of a smile in the corner of her mouth.

He returned the look before adding, “I’ll have my bank send the mother a generous sum anonymously.”

A satisfied look crossed Mikoto’s face before she pulled on her rain jacket. “You know you have my support, Madara.”

“That’s all I ever ask for.”

“I’ll be in touch,” she said. She nodded once at Izuna before she slipped out of the room, leaving the brothers alone once more.

A small silence passed between them as Izuna approached with a glass of brandy in each hand. He passed one to Madara before they drank, allowing the quiet to settle comfortably between them.

It relieved Madara to know Mikoto was on his side. Not many knew – Madara wondered if even his nephews were aware – that when Madara’s father died, the Head of the Uchiha family should have passed to Mikoto. She was older and next in line, but she had been pregnant with her youngest son at the time.

Behind closed doors, Mikoto had asked Madara to lead in her stead. They had discussed her taking charge after her second child’s birth or even a dual leadership, but Mikoto had stepped down. She trusted him with the family. Her opinion was just as important to Madara as his own brother’s.

“So,” Izuna said after a minute. “That was an interesting conversation.”

Madara side-glanced at his sibling. “How so?”

“You seem to be less patient with Fugaku. More than normal anyways.”

Madara sipped from his brandy again, enjoying the burn that came with it, before he answered, “I just don’t appreciate having to defend my orders to someone like Fugaku.”

“Is that what that was?” Izuna hummed.

His tone made Madara’s glass still halfway to his lips and he cut his gaze to his brother to find Izuna was watching him with a most unusual stare. Madara frowned. “If you have something to say, then say it, Izuna.”

“It just seems like you get riled when Dr. Haruno is threatened. Both with Fugaku and Torifu.” When Madara opened his mouth to argue, Izuna added, “You shot him when he mentioned Tobirama putting his hands on her. You’re just a little defensive about her.”

“She saved my life,” Madara said without hesitation. He wasn’t so prideful as to not be able to admit that. “And she didn’t hesitate to help Itachi as well. We owe her a great deal.”

“I think it’s more than that,” Izuna countered. “She’s been living under your roof for some time now.”

Madara shot him a flat look. “As has Hina. What’s your point?”

“I’m just saying feelings can get muddled,” Izuna said, holding up his hands defensively. “She’s pretty and smart and obviously tougher than she looks. I can see how you would be attracted to her.”

“She’s also a decade my junior.”

His brother just shrugged. “I’m not judging.”

Madara didn’t bother to contain his glare. “There’s nothing going on between Sakura and I.”

A disbelieving look crossed Izuna’s face but he fortunately let the matter go as his phone chimed. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the message. “Shisui says they’ve finished.”

“Good,” Madara said, feeling the majority of his tension drain from his shoulders. “Tell them to head home, but to keep their phones on them.”

Izuna eyed him curiously as Madara swallowed down the rest of his liquor. “Do you have something planned?”

“I’m not done hitting Tobirama where it hurts,” Madara answered. “And it may get a little messy.”

xx

There were five missed calls and three voicemails waiting for Sakura on her cell phone when she finally got out of surgery for the night. All from Ino. She listened to them as she changed out of her scrubs and into her jeans, silently laughing as each one went from sober to clearly intoxicated. It seemed Ino was in a partying mood tonight.

 _“Come out and meet us!”_ Ino whined in her latest voicemail. _“You never come out anymore! You’re went from like Doctor Awesome to Doctor Laaaaaame. Come on, please? Give me a call when you get out of surgery, ‘kay? Love ya!”_

After Sakura had tugged on her jacket, she sat down and dialed Ino’s number, a faint smile on her mouth. As soon as the other side connected, she jerked the phone away from her ear, wincing at the loud music and laughter from Ino’s side.

“Sakura!” Ino half-sang, half-screamed. “I was wondering if you were going to ignore me. Come join us!”

Sakura couldn’t resist her laugh. “Where are you?”

“We’re at Ichiraku’s. Come join us!”

There was more chatter and another round of laughter on the other end that was vaguely familiar. “Who are you with?” she asked.

On the other end, Ino hummed. “Tenten and Hinata. Hinata was just telling us about how she made out with Naruto yesterday-”

“Ino!” Hinata whined in the background.

Sakura blinked in surprise. “They did?”

Her blonde friend simply laughed before returning her attention to Sakura. “Come join us!”

“Yeah, I heard you like the first five times,” Sakura teased.

The soles of her feet hurt and her lower back ached from standing all day, but she wasn’t nearly as exhausted as she usually was after her shift. It wasn’t hard for her to make her decision.

“Alright, save me a seat. Don’t get too drunk before I get there,” Sakura said.

Her words were immediately greeted with the sound of Ino’s excited squeal. “Yay! See you when you get here! Love ya!” Then she hung up.

Laughing, Sakura pocketed her phone before she stood and made her way out of the hospital. In the parking lot, she found her escort waiting for her at the usual place near the fence and she climbed into the passenger seat before he greeted her as usual.

“Ready to go?” the younger man asked.

Sakura smiled apologetically. “Actually, there’s just one stop we have to make first.”

Two hours later, Sakura found herself happily buzzed amongst her drunk friends. They were all crowded around a high table in the middle of Ichiraku’s with half-empty glasses in their hands. Their table was full of jokes and laughter as Ino told in detail her unfortunate first-time sleeping with Shikamaru.

“We were so drunk I couldn’t get my dress off and he couldn’t get it up. We ended up just falling asleep on the couch,” Ino laughed. Then she smirked, “But the next morning, we got it on.”

“You weren’t too hungover?” Tenten asked.

“Thank gods no. Momma was horny.”

They all giggled just as the waitress walked up with a friendly smile. They had been going there long enough that she knew them all by name. “How we doing, ladies?” Ayame asked.

“One more round please,” Ino grinned.

Sakura snorted. “Are you trying to kill us?” she asked as the woman headed to the bar to fill their order.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” Tenten teased.

They shared a smile before Ino turned to Hinata. “So, how was Naruto?”

“Oh my god, Ino. They went on one date,” Sakura defended as Hinata turned bright red. Still, she couldn’t contain her laugh at her blonde friend’s nosy nature.

“Am I the only one getting any tail here?” Ino whined.

“Hardly,” Tenten said. She sat back in her chair and brushed her hair over her shoulder as she grinned. “I rode Neji like a cowgirl _all_ night last night.”

If possible, Hinata turned even redder. Sakura couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor woman. “That’s Hinata’s cousin, guys.”

“Not my cousin,” Ino smiled wickedly. “I want to hear everything.”

“Right now?” Hinata squeaked.

Tenten sighed. “Fine. What about you, Sakura?”

She gave a short laugh before she finished off her vodka tonic and accepted her new one from Ayame as she slipped their refills onto the table. “Believe me, the only naked people I see are my patients.”

“What about Madara?” Hinata piqued up suddenly.

Like the liquor had just been slapped out of her, Sakura sobered up. Her gaze cut to the normally shy woman as Ino’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Who’s Madara?”

Even in her intoxicated state, Sakura shot Hinata a stare that clearly told her to stop talking. Her expression turned confused and then guilty as she wondered if she had said something wrong, but with Ino now giving the quiet woman a look that demanded answers, she bent to the blonde’s will like a flower in a windstorm.

“Naruto told me yesterday that he went over to Sakura’s apartment and met someone named Madara. Sakura told him they were dating,” Hinata answered Ino, her voice growing quieter and quieter with each passing second as Sakura continued to give her that look.

Neither Tenten or Ino noticed as both their gazes turned to Sakura. Ino’s eyes were so wide she looked like someone had just told her Sakura had been in a threesome the night before.

“You’re dating someone and didn’t think it important to tell me?” Ino half-asked, half-screamed.

Sakura’s gaze slipped from Hinata as she fell back on her back-up plan. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was going to last. And I was right. Right after Naruto left yesterday, we broke up,” Sakura lied.

Ino threw up her hands. “What? Why?”

“Because…” Sakura said, searching for a reason. “We were just…we’re too different.”

 _Well that much was true,_ Sakura thought to herself. He was a mobster and she was a totally normal, law-abiding civilian.

However, Ino let out an exasperated sigh. “This is exactly what I was talking about! Someone has to find you a boyfriend because you reject every guy you meet.”

“I don’t reject every guy I meet,” Sakura frowned.

“Oh yeah?” Ino argued. “What about Kiba?”

“He always smelled like a wet dog,” Sakura defended.

“Gaara.”

“Too intense.”

“Genma.”

“He broke up with me.”

“Lee,” Ino added to the list. Then she frowned. “Okay, maybe he was a little weird.”

That made them all burst out laughing.

When they calmed down again, Ino grabbed her arm. “I just love you and want you to be happy. You deserve all the happiness in the world,” she said sincerely.

Sakura met her gaze before she smiled. “You’re really drunk, aren’t you?”

Ino nodded. “I am,” she said before she laughed again.

They talked a little bit longer before Neji showed up to give Tenten a ride home. He took Hinata and Ino with him, promising to get them both back to their apartments safely.

“You good?” Neji asked Sakura before he had left.

She smiled and waved him away, watching Tenten and Hinata behind him try to balance Ino between them as she stumbled. “I’m good. I’ve got a ride.”

“Alright, call if anything changes,” he told her before he collected all of the girls up.

Even after they left, Sakura continued to sit by herself as she finished off her drink. She tried not to think of Madara, but her mind couldn’t help but wander back to him. Especially after what had happened last night.

Sakura didn’t remember much, but if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she had fallen asleep on him. All she knew was that she had been talking to him one minute and the next, she had woken up this morning on the couch with a blanket that most definitely hadn’t been there the night before. His kindness both warmed and worried her.

Sakura already knew that she was attracted to Madara. It was damn near impossible not to be with his handsome face and sharp suits. He was the definition of masculine in her sex-starved opinion. He was dark and dangerous with broad shoulders and strong arms. His dark, kind eyes and small, teasing smiles he seemed to save just for her didn’t help matters either. Not to mention all the times he had helped clean the blood off her. Sakura was very well rehearsed in the psychology of traumas and the attachment that came when one person helped another through a trying time.

Still, Sakura couldn’t say she hadn’t thought about climbing into his lap and sealing her mouth to his. To feel his strong hands in her hair and on her hips as he ground himself against her center. To be pinned beneath him as he trailed those soft-looking lips between her breasts and down her stomach to her-

Sakura shook herself hard. She was most definitely feeling the effects of the liquor if she was having such vivid, perverted thoughts about Madara.

Grabbing her glass, she swallowed back the rest of her drink in one go before she collected her things and left the bar. Her escort was waiting for her outside.

He drove her straight to Madara’s and she thanked the man before she slipped out of the car and headed up the steps to the front door. Even with the ridiculously late hour, there was a butler to greet her. He accepted her coat before politely wishing her a good night.

Sakura murmured her thanks before she made her way towards the kitchen, intent on drinking a full glass of water before heading to bed. She only hoped she wouldn’t have a hangover in the morning. She would kill Ino if she did.

Pulling the tie from her hair, Sakura shook out her locks before she scratched her nails across her scalp. She stifled a yawn as she passed the sitting room and the dining room, only to pause in the entryway to the kitchen when she found it wasn’t empty.

Madara stood with his back to her. Even at this hour, he wore a white dress shirt tucked into a pair of suit pants. He had one arm crossed over his chest as he held his phone to his other ear. His sleeves were rolled up and the intoxicated part of her mind admired his tattoos before her gaze dropped to his backside.

She appreciated the way his pants hugged his rear, but her attention shifted abruptly when Madara all but growled into his phone. “I tire of your excuses,” he said so curtly it sent a shiver of unease up her spine. “This is what I pay you for. Now get it done.”

He hung up so abruptly Sakura took a half step back. The noise caused Madara to turn to her sharply. There was a tight expression on his face, but it relaxed minutely when he saw it was her. She swallowed thickly as she realized it was too late to pretend she hadn’t heard anything.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. Is everything alright?” she asked.

Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, her brain caught up with her eyes. Madara was standing on the other side of the counter, but with his white shirt, she was able to see the blood splattered across the material. It blended in with the ink on his arms but it stained his hands red, the majority around his knuckles.

Her eyes widened. “You’re covered in blood.”

Even with the liquor in her system, the doctor in her kicked in. Without hesitation, she grabbed the kitchen towel where it was hanging on the oven handle and wetted it in the sink before she went to Madara’s side. She grabbed the hand not holding his phone without asking for permission and began dabbing at his wounds carefully.

“Sakura, it’s not-,” he began.

“You could have called me,” she told him without looking away from her work. “I would have come.”

“Sakura,” Madara murmured again.

This time she did look up and she almost wished she hadn’t. Madara’s mouth was pursed together and there was a faint pinch between his brows that made her stomach twist with uncertainty. Did he not want her help?

Her hands stilled and she half-expected him to pull away. When he didn’t, she looked down again. It was then that she realized what he was trying to tell her. His knuckles were swollen and the skin was bruised, but it wasn’t broken. The blood wasn’t his. Something dark and unsettling twisted deep in her gut.

Like ice water had just been dumped on her head, Sakura was reminded of exactly who Madara was. He was a mobster and a murder, someone who committed terrible evils. Somehow, she had gotten it in her head that he was a good man, but he wasn’t.

Except for the part he was to her and that confused her. It muddled the water. He was everything she was against, and yet she wasn’t running away from him. Not anymore.

“Can I ask what happened?” she murmured softly.

Madara frowned. “You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

He was probably right about that. She didn’t think she wanted to know who or what that person had done to incur Madara’s wrath. She only hoped it had been someone who had deserved it and someone not like her; someone who had been forced into a situation against their will.

“Sakura, look at me.”

Upon Madara’s soft command, she found her gaze drawing up to meet his. It had been a long time since she had shied away from his intense stare and she found herself doing it again now, almost afraid of what he might say.

“You will never approve of my line of work, but I promise you I do not kill lightly. It does not bring me pleasure,” Madara told her, his voice far more gentle than she had expected. “The Underground is a dangerous place. My decision to take a life is solely for the purpose of keeping my family safe.”

She didn’t know why he was explaining this to her, but relief settled heavily in her chest just the same. She gave him a small nod before a faint smile crossed her face. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

A warm look passed behind his eyes before he withdrew his hands from her touch and walked over to the sink to properly wash his hands.

“I apologize if I concerned you. I normally clean up when I get home, but a couple of things distracted me,” he told her over his shoulder.

She thought about the phone call she had overheard, but didn’t ask. “It’s fine.”

She looked down at the now bloody kitchen towel in her hands and frowned. There was no way the stains could ever be washed out. She hoped Madara didn’t mind.

Crossing the kitchen, Sakura pulled out the sliding cabinet where the trash was and tossed the stained cloth away before she cleaned her hands when Madara was done at the sink. He held a new towel out to her when she turned around.

“Thanks,” Sakura smiled.

“Have you eaten dinner?”

As if reminded she’d only had bar food and liquor, her stomach growled lightly. A slight blush rose to her cheeks as Madara smirked in amusement.

“I will take that as a no,” he said playfully. “What would you like? I can make stuffed peppers or pan-seared pork chops.”

Sakura’s brow arched curiously. Neither of those sounded like easy, on-the-spot type of cooking. “Uhm, actually something fatty and fried sounds good right now. Like a grilled cheese sandwich.”

A deep chuckle rumbled in Madara’s chest. “Are you drunk?” he teased. Then he stilled as he seemed to look at her. Really look at her. “Are you drunk?” he asked again, this time more seriously.

“No,” she quickly defended.

A look of surprise crossed his face before an amused smile curled in the corner of his mouth. She flushed in mild embarrassment. “So that’s why you are back so late. Grilled cheese it is then,” he agreed. Then he looked down at his blood-stained shirt. “Just allow me to clean up first.”

After he left, Sakura slipped out of her jacket and left it on one of the island stools before she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and rummaged through the fridge. She collected everything she would need before she got to work making their late-night snack. Or was it early morning?

By the time Madara returned, their sandwiches were already sizzling in the pan. He stopped beside the island counter and leaned against it casually as he watched her. “It seems you have things well under control,” he said, a note of surprise coloring his tone.

Sakura glanced over her shoulder at him, a smirk on her face. It fell slightly when she saw he had changed into a pair of grey sweats and a black t-shirt. With his arms loosely crossed, the material emphasized his broad chest and strong shoulders. The look was so subtly sexy and against her will, heat began to pool in the pit of her stomach. What she wouldn’t give to slip her hands under the hem of his shirt and run her palms up the muscles of his stomach.

A moment too late, Sakura realized she had been caught staring. Madara was observing her with a penetrating gaze so intense her cheeks began to flush. Snapping her attention back to the stove, she made a point of busying herself by flipping their sandwiches over. She had to search her memory to recall what Madara had said.

“Did you think I couldn’t cook?” she asked.

“I suppose I had assumed with your schooling, you had limited time to learn.”

Even with her embarrassment still fresh, she couldn’t resist throwing a smirk over her shoulder at him. “I guess you don’t have me all figured out then.”

“I suppose I don’t,” he murmured.

That piercing look was still in his gaze. Sakura didn’t know if it was the alcohol still running through her system, but that stare did delicious things to her insides and she found that even given everything she knew Madara was and everything he had done to her, she didn’t mind the way he looked at her. Like he wanted to devour her.

In that instant, it abruptly dawned on Sakura that her feelings of attraction were mutual. That realization made her stop dead. For what had only been pure fantasy now meant that there was a real possibility it could become reality if Madara was willing to take it that far. And from the way his eyes tracked her movements, she guessed he would very much enjoy doing so.

The slightly intoxicated part of her mind purred deliciously at that and wrapped around the idea like a pleased cat while the more sober, more analytical side slammed on the brakes like she was trying to dodge a fatal, head-on collision. The arousal that had stirred within her earlier spiked abruptly. Heat throbbed between her legs at the thought of _what-if_ , but the wheels in her head continued to turn.

Even given everything that had happened, Sakura had hoped that at some point in her life – whether that be months or years from now – she would be free of Tobirama and the shadowy threats of the mafia. It was a lingering hope she clung to, but if she were to get involved with Madara, she was almost certain it would seal her fate irrevocably. There would be no escape from this life.

Sakura finished cooking in silence. She sliced their sandwiches in half, allowing the gooey center to ooze out before she plated them and passed one to Madara. Their fingers brushed as he accepted the dish, causing a jolt of pleasure to race up her arm.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely as he settled on one of the stools at the island. She remained standing beside him.

“Don’t thank me until you try it,” Sakura smiled teasingly. “I may have been overstating a little when I said I knew how to cook.”

The chuckle that rumbled in Madara’s chest made pleasure curl in the pit of her stomach again, but she forced her attention to her sandwich as she tore off a piece and popped it into her mouth. To her delight, it was cheesy and salty and crunchy, and so exactly what she wanted after a long day of work. She couldn’t help but release a satisfied moan.

“Alright, I take it back. I know how to cook,” she said through a mouthful.

Beside her, Madara hummed his agreement. “Perhaps you should replace my chef.”

A huff of amusement escaped out her nose. “Let’s not get too crazy. What was it you wanted to make? Stuffed peppers and lamb chops? That’s far outside my pay-grade.”

“Well perhaps next time I can teach you.”

Sakura stilled mid-chew before she turned to look at him. There was no expectation in his eyes, but the warmth there made her smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They finished their dinner with comfortable conversation before her work day and the liquor in her system caught up to her. For the first time that she could ever recall, Madara looked tired as well, but he still did the dishes before they headed upstairs for bed. At the banister, he wished her a good night before they went to their separate bedrooms.

There was a smile on Sakura’s face as she got ready for bed. She knew all the reasons why she couldn’t get involved with Madara, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy his company and she found herself looking forward to his offer of a cooking lesson. Perhaps he was a mob boss, but she was beginning to wonder if that was only one side of him. It was a dangerous line of thinking, but alone, Sakura supposed there was no harm in indulging herself a little.

When she finally crawled into bed, it didn’t take long for her eyes to close, and when she slept, she dreamt of Madara.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized I messed up the family relationships a little. Making Mikoto Madara’s cousin would make Itachi and Shisui his cousins as well, but to make everything a little less (or is it now more?) confusing I left it as is. It’s fanfiction – go with in!
> 
> Also, I almost never post this online, but I had a really emotionally draining day today, so if you guys don’t mind dropping me a review, it would really cheer me up. Thanks for reading – I hope you enjoyed! I can't thank you all enough for your comments last chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter Eight_ **

A smile crossed Sakura’s face when the person beside her shifted. She tried to roll onto her back to look at them but they stopped her with a strong hand on her hip and a kiss to the back of her neck. A hum of appreciation sounded low in her throat as she recognized Madara. She couldn’t see behind her, but she knew it was him by the feel of his body.

They were laying on the couch in the sitting room of his house, his entire body pressed up against her back. She could feel the heat of his hardness pressing against the crevice of her rear and she rocked against it encouragingly as he continued to pepper kisses to the back of her neck.

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmured huskily as his fingers slipped between her legs.

She was already wet and throbbing. She wanted nothing more for him to fill her but there was something creeping in the edge of her mind. Something important her brain was trying to tell her.

“We can’t,” she said even as a moan escaped her lips.

He traced her seam, his fingertips spreading the wetness he found there and stroking the fire of her arousal. “Why not?” he murmured against her ear.

“Because of Izuna.”

His other hand molded to her breast and she couldn’t contain her gasp as his fingers tweaked her nipple. “What about him?”

“He…he’ll see us. He’s going to be here soon-.”

She cut off abruptly as Madara teased her opening, his fingertips barely dipping inside only to retreat again. He played with the pearl above her entrance as he palmed her breast, drawing one moan after another from her until she was squirming against him. Her orgasm was rapidly approaching and she couldn’t stop herself from grinding into his hand as she chased her climax. Her voice went up an octave and her hands gripped Madara’s muscular arms for support as that spring coiled tighter and tighter…

Sakura awoke with a start. Her eyes snapped open and her gaze darted around the room as she came back to reality. She was in her bedroom at Madara’s house, fully clothed and utterly aroused. Her dream was still dancing in her mind and she ran both her hands down her face as she released a deep sigh.

This was the third time this week she’d dreamt about Madara. Each time, she woke a little more disappointed than the last when her dream hadn’t let her reach completion. She was utterly throbbing and impossibly hot this morning.

Kicking off the covers, Sakura raked a hand through her hair as she forced herself to take a deep breath. It did nothing to cool the ache between her legs. Reaching for her phone, she checked the time only to remember today was her day off. She could lay in bed all day if she wanted…

Dropping her phone onto the empty pillow beside her, Sakura’s gaze fell towards the door. No one ever entered without knocking, but she still bit her lower lip nervously for a moment before she finally gave in and slipped her hand beneath her shorts.

Her sex was dripping wet and she gathered some of her essence on her fingertips before she brushed the nub above her entrance. It was already swollen with desire and she sighed in pleasure as her touch both relieved the pressure between her legs and helped stroke it higher.

She could already feel the coil in the pit of her stomach tightening and she closed her eyes as she relived the last little bit of her dream.

Alone, Sakura wondered what kind of lover Madara would be. Would he be sweet and affectionate as he showered her with praise or did he take what he wanted? With his authority in the Underground, Madara must be used to getting his way. She imagined he would be the same in bed, ordering her to spread her legs and telling her to ask for what she wanted.

She slipped her hand under her shirt to cup her breast, imagining it was Madara touching her and drawing out her pleasure. It didn’t take long for her climax to slam into her and she was unable to bite back her broken groan as her orgasm coursed through her system like hot electricity.

When Sakura came down from her high, she relaxed back against the sheets as she caught her breath. Her climax had been intense, but she still wasn’t entirely satisfied. Her body craved more. It craved _someone_ more. She wanted pleasure, but not from her own hand. She wanted to feel another body against her, inside her.

Automatically her mind wandered to Madara. To the way he watched her when he thought she wasn’t looking. How those dark eyes seemed to follow her wherever she went…

Shaking herself, Sakura forced herself out of bed. If her own fingers couldn’t satisfy her then she would just have to burn her energy off another way.

After cleaning herself up, Sakura slipped into her one-piece swimsuit and headed into the far corner of the house on the first floor where the indoor pool was. She had seen it the first week she had started staying in the house, but she hadn’t thought to pack a bathing suit until the last time she had been at her apartment.

After braiding her hair back into a secure bun, she settled her goggles over her eyes and dove into the cool water. It felt good against her heated skin and she took a moment to enjoy the feeling of being totally submerged before she exhaled her breath and swam for the surface.

Sakura didn’t know how long she stayed in the water as she swam down the length of the pool before kicking off the far side and making her way back. She had been on her high school swim team, but getting ready for medical school and then medical school itself had kept her from the water for a number of years.

Admittedly, she wasn’t in as good of shape as she had been as a teenager, but it felt good to stretch her old muscles. Her shoulders and legs ached with the exercise, and each lap made her lungs burn, but she pushed herself until she was gasping for breath and her body begged for rest.

Without getting out of the water, Sakura set her goggles aside before she reached for the water bottle she had brought with her. She gulped down a few mouthfuls before she returned the bottle to the deck and pushed away from the wall again.

The pool room was utterly quiet except for the lap of water against the sides. It was nice to feel totally and utterly alone, knowing there weren’t any escorts waiting for her or eyes tracking her movements. She was comfortably by herself and completely safe.

Sliding onto her back, Sakura allowed herself to simply float in the water. Even the muted splash at the edges of the pool silenced as her ears filled with water. For the first time in months, the world both inside and outside of her head was perfectly content.

An hour later, Sakura had showered and changed into a pair of comfortable sweats and a t-shirt with a stethoscope design and the words “smart and hot” in the middle, courtesy of Ino after Sakura had graduated medical school. She left her hair damp around her shoulders, hoping to let it dry a little first before she inevitably piled it up into a bun like she always did.

The kitchen was empty when Sakura entered and she made her way towards the cabinets with the coffee mugs before she poured herself a cup of freshly brewed caffeine, likely prepared by Madara’s chef. Normally she drank her coffee black, mostly out of convenience at work than preferred taste, but with nothing but time on her hands this morning, she searched out the sugar and creamer before she stood by the window and gazed out upon the backyard.

It was still somewhat early. Mist clung to the trees, hiding the tall gates that bordered Madara’s property. She liked seeing the grounds calm and peaceful like this, as if the world and all its problems were far, far away. She sipped her coffee, enjoying the tranquil morning.

However, just like the ER, the quiet never lasted long. A few minutes later, she heard the thud of footsteps before loud voices reached her ears. Or rather, one loud voice.

“Good morning, Sakura!” Shisui greeted enthusiastically.

Sakura turned around just as Itachi shot his cousin a stern look. “Shisui, keep your voice down. It’s still early.”

“What? Afraid people are still sleeping?” Shisui shot back.

Sakura turned away from the window and smiled at their antics as she crossed the room to join them. To her surprise, they were both wearing jeans and hoodies. Itachi’s was black while Shisui’s was more of a faded navy color.

“Good morning, Shisui, Itachi,” she smiled.

Itachi murmured her a reply before he made his way across the kitchen. He had stopped use of his crutches a week ago but there was still a small limp in his step. She had half a mind to inform him that the injury would heal faster and less painfully if he kept up the use, but she figured there was no point. These mafia boys had an image to uphold.

 _Idiots,_ she thought fondly.

“What’s on the schedule today?” Sakura asked.

Shisui grabbed two coffee mugs from the same cabinet Sakura had been in earlier as he replied, “Burying some bodies, selling some cocaine. The usual.”

When her face paled, Itachi quickly stepped in. “He’s kidding,” he told her to her great relief.

Shisui simply cocked his brow. “Not funny?”

“Not funny,” she and Itachi said in unison.

He simply grinned sheepishly before he poured both himself and Itachi a cup of coffee. Shisui drank his black, but Sakura watched with her own mug paused halfway to her lips as he dumped five spoonfuls of sugar into the cup for his cousin. The doctor in her was horrified as she watched Itachi sip it down happily.

“Actually, I was wondering if you were working today,” Shisui said after he had served his cousin.

Tearing her eyes away from Itachi’s sugar-coffee, she shook her head. “No, what’s up?”

“Itachi was telling me he was teaching you the mechanics of guns and I was wondering if you wanted me to teach you how to shoot.”

Sakura’s coffee stilled at her lips as her eyes widened in bewilderment. “Are you serious? Are you sure you want to? I’m pretty sure I’ll be a terrible shot.”

A smirk crossed Shisui’s face as he shrugged one shoulder. “Most people are, but the good news is, you really only have to hit someone to slow them down if you’re in trouble.”

That sobered Sakura some. She hated the thought of killing or injuring anyone. Guns were such violent things, but the mere thought of Tobirama touching her again made her skin crawl. She had gotten lucky last time by having Itachi with her. She hoped her luck would last but she couldn’t count on it.

Eventually Sakura nodded. “Yeah. That would be awesome. Thank you.”

Itachi peered at her over the rim of his mug. “You might want to change first though.”

After finishing her coffee, Sakura returned upstairs to change into more practical clothing. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a tan pea coat over her shirt before she slipped on a comfortable pair of brown riding boots. Shisui was waiting for her when she returned downstairs. To her surprise, Itachi didn’t join them.

“You aren’t going?” she had asked.

He eyed her. “Why would I? I don’t want to.”

Sakura hadn’t been able to contain her snort. At least he was honest.

Shisui drove them into town after that. He took her to a shooting range tucked away in the corner of the city. It didn’t look that big from the outside, but as soon as they stepped through the door, it opened up into a large room with a counter the length of the back wall. Mounted on the wall behind it was what seemed a hundred different guns on display.

Shisui led her to the closest worker. The man looked up from where he was going through a catalog before he jerked his chin in greeting. “Been a while, Shisui. Need some more product?”

Sakura didn’t know what product was codeword for – though judging from all the weapons displayed about the room she had to guess it was either guns or bullets – but Shisui shook his head. “Nah, I was wondering if you minded if I took over one of your lanes today?”

The man’s eyes slipped past Shisui then to look at her. His expression turned mildly curious but he didn’t say anything as he nodded. “Sure thing. Just pick one. Pretty quiet day today.”

“Itachi had you working with a Glock 17, right?” Shisui asked, turning to her.

Sakura could only stare back, baffled. “Uh, I don’t know.”

To her relief, he only smiled in amusement before he turned back to the worker. “Can we borrow a seventeen, and I’ll need a half a dozen boxes of 9mm.”

The worker went to retrieve his requested items as Shisui went to the corner of the counter where a half a dozen pairs of earmuffs were hanging up. He grabbed one and hung it around his neck before he pulled down a second and fitted it over her ears.

He grinned at her and said something that sounded like “Perfect” but it was hard to tell with the earmuffs on. She matched his smile with a small one of her own and slid the protection around her neck when Shisui stepped away to grab the weapon and bullets from the man. He then led her through a heavy metal door to the shooting range.

It was a bigger room than she was expecting with the majority of it blocked off by a counter where targets were pinned up downrange. There were different booths set up with metal walls dividing them to keep casings from flying onto other customers. Sakura followed Shisui to a booth on the far end where he placed the weapon and the boxes of bullets on the counter. Then he turned to her.

“First rule: don’t accidentally shoot yourself. Second rule: please don’t accidentally shoot me,” he said with a smile.

Until that moment, Sakura didn’t realize how anxious she was, but his words made her smile, the worst of her tension instantly fading. “Good thing I know how to stitch you up if I do.”

“Even so, please don’t,” he teased. Then he picked up the gun. “Right now, this is unloaded but I’m sure you’re aware you treat every weapon like it isn’t. So, let’s go through the basics first,” he told her, gesturing for her to step closer and join him.

A bit timidly, Sakura approached Shisui until she was standing next to him. He handed her the weapon and motioned for her to center herself in the booth before he stood behind her and adjusted her fingers until she was holding the weapon correctly.

“Lock your shoulders and elbows. When you shoot, you’re going to do a sort of push-and-pull motion with your wrists. 9mm have less of a recoil than 40s, but there’s still going to be some kick. I’m sure you remember that from when you shot Itachi’s gun,” Shisui told her.

Her mind briefly recalled the memory of when she had fired Itachi’s weapon and the recoil that had stung through her wrist, but her attention turned to Shisui when he placed his hands over hers and showed her how to do what he had just described.

Once Shisui was sure she understood, he took the weapon from her before he released the magazine. It was empty, but he made quick work of loading the bullets into it before he inserted it back into the weapon like he had done it a thousand times, which was very likely true. He then nodded towards her earmuffs and waited until she had them on before he handed the weapon to her.

“Go ahead and try,” he said, gesturing towards the targets downrange. He slipped his own ear protection on before he stepped back.

Trying to put Shisui’s advice into practice, Sakura aimed at the target and pulled the trigger until the magazine was empty. She then set it on the counter before she turned back to Shisui. He was standing only a foot behind her, his eyes narrowed slightly as he peered down the range at the target.

Eventually he nodded. “You’re actually not bad. There’s just a couple of things we need to tweak.”

They spent the next two hours shooting. He helped her load her magazine when her fingers began to go numb and gave her pointers where she needed it. By the time they had used up all their bullets, Sakura was tired but feeling far more confident than when they had arrived.

Before they left, they cleaned up their station, using the push broom to sweep the numerous casings into the corner where the staff would clean it up at the end of the day. They dropped their ear protection and the gun off with the same man before they exited the building.

Outside, Shisui stretched his arms over his head. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

“I could go for something to eat,” she agreed.

Shisui took them to a little sushi place that was also tucked away. The restaurant itself was small but clean, and Sakura ordered herself a water and a bento box with teriyaki while Shisui asked for a couple of different sushi rolls.

As soon as their waiter was gone, Shisui pushed the sleeves of his hoodie up before he leaned his forearms on the table. “You know, you looked really good today.”

“Are you flirting with me?” she asked, unable to resist her teasing smile.

He barked out a laugh. “Hardly. Madara would kill me slowly,” he told her. His comment made her frown curiously, but he continued before she could ask, “You did really well. I wanted to get you comfortable with shooting, but I wanna know if you like the feel of the Glock 17? I want to get you fitted with something soon.”

His words confused her and her brows furrowed together as she cocked her head slightly. “What do you mean?”

Their conversation paused briefly as the waitress brought them their drinks. Shisui waited until she disappeared again before he answered, “I want to know your thoughts, so I can get you something you’re comfortable carrying.”

“What?”

Shisui eyed her curiously. “Did you think we were going out shooting today for fun?” he asked, not unkindly. “The point of me taking you out today was to get you confident enough to carry your own weapon. With how much Tobirama is focused on you, we can’t count on your escort to protect you all the time.”

Immediately she shook her head. “But I don’t–I can’t–”

“It’s okay, Sakura,” he said calmly. “You probably won’t even use it. It’s just a precaution.”

Still, her nerves twisted in her stomach. “I just don’t know how I feel about carrying a gun myself.”

“Which is exactly what this exercise today was for. To get you comfortable,” he said. When her frown lingered, he shot her a reassuring smile, “I’ll hold off on getting you something for now. Just think about it, okay?”

That nervousness didn’t quite fade, but she let the matter go for now. They ate their meal as their conversation turned to more light-hearted things.

When they were finished, Shisui drove Sakura back. She took a hot shower as she tried not to think too hard about what Shisui had said. She wasn’t entirely surprised by his suggestion to have her carry, but it shook her more than she had led on. She didn’t want to think about taking a life. It was everything she went against, but the very idea of Tobirama touching her again made her just might consider…

Shaking that thought from her mind abruptly, Sakura finished rinsing the soap from her skin before she stepped out of the shower and changed into the same pair of yoga pants and shirt she had been wearing that morning. She left her towel to dry on the shower door before she left her room.

She followed the familiar halls through the house only for voices to reach her ears when she approached the banister. “–while I agree with Madara, I don’t want to rush into this. Tobirama is arrogant, but smart. I don’t want us to become narrow-minded with this decision.”

Sakura recognized Mikoto’s voice, but she froze upon the mention of Tobirama’s name, her brows pinching together in confusion. What decision was Mikoto talking about?

“We won’t,” Izuna replied. “We have our men watching Tobirama’s business now. As soon as we’re sure the moment is right, we’ll hit him hard. He’ll have to come and investigate.”

Mikoto hummed lightly before asking, “And what of the business Itachi discovered downtown?”

“We’re watching that one as well,” he answered. “You don’t need to worry, Mikoto. Madara and I are taking all precautions. We’re handling this situation carefully.”

“You’ll keep me updated though?”

“Of course,” Izuna replied.

Their conversation seemed to wrap up then and Sakura stepped away from the banister as she heard Mikoto’s heels click against the hardwood floor sharply. Even after the front door had closed behind the pair, her mind continued to churn. She had thought Shisui had taken her shooting to teach her self-defense out of kindness. She now wondered if it was because Madara had asked his nephew to do so so she could protect herself. What exactly was Madara planning?

With anxiety twisting in her chest, Sakura quickly descended the stairs. She sought out Madara, only to find Hina in the laundry room. She was in the middle of folding a basket full of sheets.

“Where’s Madara?” Sakura asked.

The older woman looked at Sakura without pausing her folding. “He’s in his office on the third floor.”

Exactly where Sakura was told she couldn’t go. Frustration welled in her chest. “I need to speak with him. Now,” she said.

Sakura was usually a calm person, but she was unable to keep the demand out of her voice and Hina took notice. She paused her chore to look at Sakura. Her lips pressed into a firm line and for a moment, Sakura thought she would deny her, but then Hina set the bed sheet aside before she nodded. “Very well.”

Sakura followed the older maid to the stairs, but Hina turned back to her before Sakura could follow her. “Wait here. I’ll inform him you wish to speak with him.”

An argument began to build on Sakura’s tongue, but she forced herself to nod before she watched the older woman climb the steps and disappear into the part of the house she wasn’t allowed to go. She waited impatiently, her mind repeating the conversation she had overheard on loop.

After what felt like a lifetime, Sakura heard footsteps above her. She looked up just as Madara appeared at the top of the banister, Hina some steps behind him. He wore a suit, his jacket missing and the sleeves of his crimson shirt rolled up. Hina had obviously pulled him away from his work, but Sakura couldn’t find it within herself to feel remorse.  
  
There was a note of concern on Madara's face as he descended the stairs at a slightly faster pace than he normally moved. "Is everything alright, Sakura?"  
  
His eyes seemed to search her form, as if looking for injuries. That made guilt briefly flare in her chest for making him worry but the conversation she had overheard weighed even more heavily in her mind.  
  
"Is it true?" Sakura asked when he was standing before her. "Are you trying to provoke Tobirama out of hiding?”

The hint of concern in his expression shifted at her question. He blinked, taken aback before his mouth pressed into a thin line and his gaze hardened.  
  
"Are you starting a war with the Senju?" she pressed before he could answer. "I know Tobirama is an enemy but you can't just–"  
  
A moment too late, Sakura realized the look in Madara's eyes was a warning to stop talking. She didn't understand why until she saw Hina still standing on the banister observing them silently. This was not a conversation Madara wanted to discuss in the open.

Without a word, he gripped her upper arm and spun her around before his hand dropped to her lower back to steer her forward. They walked at a clipped pace as he guided her down the hall with a commanding hand until they reached the office where Sakura had stitched up Itachi. He pushed her inside and firmly closed the door behind him before he fixed his gaze upon her.

“Where did you hear that?” Madara asked, his tone sharp.

His lack of denial made a lump settle in her stomach like a rock dropped into wet cement. The unease that washed through her outweighed the voice in the back of her mind that was telling her to stand down. To back away from the warning look in Madara’s eyes.

“So, it’s true then? You do plan on baiting Tobirama.”

He was quiet for a long moment, but eventually the unyielding look in his expression shifted when he realized she wouldn’t let the matter go. “Yes, that is my plan.”

His confirmation made her stomach drop. “You can’t–”

“Tobirama won’t stay in hiding forever, Sakura,” he interrupted firmly. “He was forced to lay-low after your encounter with him, but as soon as he’s healed, he’ll come out of the shadows and attack. I need to force his hand before he has time to prepare a retaliation.”

Apprehension settled heavily between Sakura’s ribcage. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she shook her head. “I don’t agree with this.”

“It isn’t your place to agree or disagree.”

His words stung more than she expected and she swallowed back the hurt that welled in her chest. She hadn’t been at odds with Madara since she had come to live with him and she was finding she didn’t particularly enjoy it. Still, she couldn’t find it within herself to back down.

“Someone could get hurt or killed and I can’t be there all the time to help,” Sakura argued, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice. Then a sudden thought occurred to her and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself, “Are you doing this because of me?”

“We have been at odds against Tobirama and his family for many years,” Madara told her. “Recently, things have begun to accelerate.”

It didn’t answer her question and she made a point of letting him know by the look she shot his way.

Madara went silent. He was quiet for so long Sakura thought he wouldn’t answer. His gaze was absolutely piercing, but she forced herself not to flinch away. Eventually the tension in his shoulders visibly faded as he released an almost inaudible sigh. “You aren’t the entire reason, but yes, you are a factor.”

Sakura ran a stressed hand through her hair, her fingers tugging on her roots lightly as if it might help ease some of her anxieties. “We both know how dangerous Tobirama is,” she murmured, her tone quiet in comparison to what it had been only a few minutes ago. “I just don’t want anyone risking their safety unnecessarily. Especially for my sake.”

“This is what we do, Sakura,” he told her.

It still didn’t change her mind. She was worried about what would happen. She worried for her safety and Madara’s and Shisui’s and everyone else’s. It terrified her to think of Tobirama laying hands on her again, but she realized it frightened her even more at the thought of one of them getting injured without her being there to help or wounded beyond what she was capable of saving.

Sakura was forced out of her thoughts when Madara suddenly grasped her chin. She hadn’t even heard him move but his touch was gentle as he urged her face up to look at him. She met his gaze as his thumb grazed her bottom lip. This close, she could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and she couldn’t help but feel some of her tension fade away as he looked down at her with an expression of patience and understanding.

“I will do everything in my power to keep you and my family safe. You don’t need to concern yourself over this, Sakura,” he murmured gently.

His thumb grazed her lip again, this time more fully then before. Her lips parted and her breath ghosted over his fingertip as she gazed up at him.

“It won’t stop me from doing so anyway,” she whispered.

The corner of his mouth twitched in an ironic smile. “I know.”

They stood there like that for a moment more before a soft but distinctive knock interrupted them. Madara released his grip on her and stepped away before he gave his permission to enter.

Hina poked her head in. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but your cell phone has rung three times in the last few minutes. I think it may be important.”

Madara nodded. “Thank you, Hina.”

She excused herself after that and closed the door behind her. With the interruption, Sakura felt her misgivings return and her eyes dropped to the floor, unsatisfied that she hadn’t been able to change Madara’s mind.

She expected him to excuse himself and follow, which is why she was surprised when he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The action forced her gaze to his and they stared at one another for a long moment.

“I need to return to my work,” Madara told her.

Still, he didn’t immediately drop his knuckles from where they rested gently against her cheek and she waited with baited breath for whatever came next. To her disappointment, he simply stepped back, letting his touch fall away before he exited the room.

Alone, Sakura could feel how wildly her heart was pounding and how her skin seemed to tingle everywhere he had touched. She was giddy and nervous and excited, but mostly confused. She wanted Madara to kiss her, but she was terrified of the mafia life and what a relationship, even one that was purely sexual, would mean. She was tired of being frightened all of the time and worried about Tobirama. She wanted to know for certain he would never touch her again, but that didn’t mean she wanted Madara to go to war over it.

Sakura was more torn than she had ever been about anything in her life and she couldn’t even talk to her best friends about it. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t even know what she could do. Her life and future had never been more unclear.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Sakura lowered herself down onto the couch. She leaned against the backrest and gazed outside as the wind tugged on the leaves clinging to life on the trees. She felt much the same way, like she was being pulled in every direction.

It was well after sundown before she moved again.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been amazingly sweet with your comments! I sincerely thank you, everyone.
> 
> Please remember to take a moment to let me know your thoughts! They really do help with the writing process. I've even used some of your suggestions!


	9. Chapter 9

**_Chapter Nine_ **

After their semi-heated argument, there was a tension that lasted nearly three days. It sat like a bad aftertaste and soured Sakura's mood. She was still frustrated with Madara’s decision but she couldn’t get the memory out of her mind how he had touched her. It made her swoon and annoyed her all in the same breath. So, she did what she did best when she wanted not to think about something: she worked.

For those three days, Sakura barely left the hospital; instead choosing to fill her time jumping in and out of surgery. Today, she had started her day early with Naruto, helping him with a fall injury in a young boy before she was called in to assist with a stabbing victim. She grabbed a quick lunch after that, only to be interrupted halfway through with a patient that had been in a terrible car accident. When it came to wanting a distraction, it was a perfect day.

The sun was nearly below the horizon by the time Sakura scrubbed out of her last surgery for the day. She collected her things from her locker and pulled on her peacoat over her scrubs before she headed down to the cafeteria to grab a quick coffee before she headed back to Madara’s for the night. There, she decided, she would shower and head straight to bed.

This time of night, there were few people in the hospital café. Only two workers were still there as well as a handful of nurses and visitors. Sakura barely glanced at them as she made her way to the coffee machine, grabbing a single-use, plastic-insulated cup before she reached for the coffeemaker. She jerked back when she grabbed for it at the same time as someone else. 

“Oh, sorry. Go ahead,” she said politely. She had been so focused on getting caffeine into her system, she hadn’t even noticed anyone else approaching.

Beside her, a man smiled. He looked about her age, but the laugh lines around his eyes made her believe he was a decade or two older. He was tall and dressed well in a pressed suit with an expensive watch on his wrist. He picked up the coffee pot for her and held it towards the cup in her hand. “My apologies. Allow me,” he said kindly.

Sakura returned his smile before she held out her cup and allowed him to fill it for her. 

“I hope you do not take this the wrong way, but you look like you could use it more than me. Long day?” he asked. He filled his own cup before he passed her the stainless thermos that held the milk.

She accepted it gratefully before she poured some in until her coffee turned an almond color. “Very. I had three emergency surgeries back-to-back,” she told him. 

The man blinked, taken aback. “You’re a doctor here?”

“A surgeon, yes.”

His look of surprise made irritation briefly flare in her chest. It wasn’t the first time she had been mistaken for a nurse and while she loved her nurses, she was annoyed that’s what he automatically assumed. 

Or at least she was annoyed until he continued, “I meant no offense. I’ve worked in many hospitals, but I’ve never come across a surgeon as young as yourself. Your intelligence must rival your beauty.”

Well he was certainly bold, wasn’t he? Still, Sakura couldn’t resist the smile that tugged on the corner of her mouth and she hid it behind her coffee as she tested the flavor of the bitter caffeine. “Does that intimidate you?” she asked, glancing at him.

He returned her smile for a subtle smirk. “On the contrary.”

She knew exactly what he was implying, but while he was an obviously attractive man with his silky, brown hair and chocolate-colored eyes, they weren’t the obsidian ones she had come to adore. His gaze was a little too open and a lot too bold. 

“Do you work here then?” Sakura asked, subtly declining his invitation.

To her relief, he accepted it without further pressure. “Only as a contractor. My flight just got in and I have a meeting with the Chief of Surgery here soon,” he said, briefly checking his watch. “I was told his office is on the third floor, but I’m afraid the rest of the directions have escaped me.”

Her smile was sympathetic. “It’s a little complicated. I was about to head home, but I can run you up there real quick, if you want.”

His brown eyes seemed to brighten at the thought. “That would be most kind of you.”

With that decided, they walked to the cashier to pay for their drinks. The man insisted on paying for hers in return for her kind offer before Sakura led him across the hospital to the elevators closest to the Chief’s office.

They spoke about trivial things as they walked, mostly his flight and her job. Sakura recounted a couple of cases for him, leaving out any identifying patient info while describing her talents. He seemed fascinated by her surgical abilities and she had always enjoyed discussing her work. It was almost a start when she realized they had reached their destination.

“Well, here we are,” Sakura said, gesturing towards the large office with the words  _ Chief of Surgery Sarutobi Hiruzen _ stenciled onto the door.

They stopped a few steps away from it before the man turned to her. “Thank you again for your assistance.”

“It was no problem at all,” she waved him off. “I hope your meeting with the Chief goes well.”

“If it does, I might see you around here again sometime.”

That piqued her interest. Was he a surgeon as well? He didn’t look like one. Perhaps a lawyer or an HR representative? Still, she couldn’t help but crack a smile. 

“Maybe next time I can buy the coffee.” Then realization struck her hard and sudden at her blunder. Her eyes widened apologetically. “I’m so sorry. I must be more tired from work than I thought. I never asked your name. I’m Sakura,” she said, holding out the hand not gripping her coffee.

His smile was utterly charming as he shifted his own drink into his other hand before he accepted her hand. It was still warm from his coffee. “Pleased to meet you, Sakura. I’m Hashirama.” 

They stood frozen for a moment, her hand still encased in his before he finally released his grasp. Sakura gave him one last smile before she turned around and made her way out of the hospital, intent on following through with her plan to shower before slipping into bed. 

Her escort was waiting for her outside the hospital where he always was. They didn’t talk much, only exchanged the usual greeting before he drove her straight to Madara’s. It was just after sundown when they arrived and Sakura made a beeline to her bedroom. She stripped off her coat and laid it over the back of the chair in front of the vanity before she began emptying her pockets of her hospital badge and her phone.

She had barely slipped off her shoes when there was a knock on the door. Her brow arched curiously, but she pushed herself up from the edge of the bed to answer. Hina stood on the other side.

“Master Madara wanted me to inform you that dinner will be ready in twenty minutes,” Hina told her. 

Sakura could only blink. “Dinner?”

“Yes, he had the chef make a roast for the evening.”

That wasn’t exactly what she had meant. Sakura was more concerned about what a dinner with Madara would mean. After their conversation in the office a few days ago, she had kinda been avoiding him. She needed time to think, which she hadn’t given herself the opportunity to with all the extra shifts she had been picking up and now that she had the time, all she wanted to do was sleep.

“Uhh…I just got back from the hospital,” Sakura said, vaguely gesturing at her scrubs.

The older maid only smiled. “Madara said they would wait until you were ready if needed.”

“They?” she parroted in confusion.

Hina nodded. “Madame Mikoto insisted you join them for supper tonight.”

Which meant that there was no way for her to back out of dinner without it being considered discourteous. She resisted her sigh. “I’ll be downstairs soon.”

With her limited time, Sakura chose not to wash her hair when she showered. Instead, she pinned it up in a braid before she washed her face and scrubbed the scent of blood and antiseptic from her skin. After drying herself off, she pulled on a grey, lacey dress. It wasn’t her fanciest one, but it was nice and comfortable enough. She didn’t doubt they would all be dressed for the occasion.

Sure enough, her assumptions were correct. Only it wasn’t just Madara and Mikoto sitting at the table. Izuna was there too, as well as a man Sakura didn’t recognize. Her gaze studied the stranger for a moment before her eyes automatically slipped to Madara. 

He sat at the head of the table with Izuna to his right. They both wore clean suits and ties but Izuna was in a white shirt while Madara wore a deep navy. Mikoto was the only woman at the table currently, but she sat with the air of a queen in her black evening gown. It hugged her curves and emphasized her bust without being overly bold.

In their presence, Sakura suddenly felt far underdressed and she had half a mind to slip back out and change when Madara’s eyes landed on her. There was a slight, barely noticeable frown on his face as he listened to the stranger speak, but it seemed to vanish the instant he noticed her.

Mikoto followed her cousin’s stare. “Sakura dear,” she smiled warmly.

The other eyes in the room turned to her then and she shifted uncomfortably under the sudden attention. She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear nervously. “Sorry for keeping you waiting. I just got back from work.”

The man across from Mikoto said nothing, but she noticed him frown minutely. The downward pull in the corner of his mouth was familiar. It took her a moment to realize he looked like Itachi. He had to be his father, which would make him Mikoto’s husband. He merely watched her as Mikoto smiled sympathetically. “You poor dear. You must be exhausted. Come sit down. Let’s get you a drink.”

Mikoto’s friendliness washed the worst of Sakura’s nerves away and she smiled politely as she stepped further into the room. “Actually, just water would be fine.”

She was pretty certain any liquor would knock her right out and she assumed falling asleep at the dinner table might be a little rude.

The table itself was set with plates and shining silverware. The food had yet to be served, but there was a glass of water already at each place setting as well as each person’s drink of choice. It was only when Sakura approached that she abruptly realized the last setting at the table was across from Izuna, on Madara’s left. He stood when she drew closer and nerves nearly twisted her stomach into knots when he pulled out her chair for her. She swallowed thickly, but in the company of others, she didn't feel any of that tension that had seemed to linger. She began to wonder if she had imagined it all along.

Madara's expression was utterly unreadable, but she recognized the softness hidden in the depths of his dark eyes. That simple look eased her misgivings, but she didn’t do anything more than smile her thanks as she tucked the hem of her dress under her and lowered herself down before he pushed her in. 

As soon as she was seated, Madra returned to his own chair at the head of the table. His gaze then settled on Hina where she stood a respectable distance from the table. “Please inform Konan that we are ready.”

The older maid inclined her head politely before she excused herself. 

As soon as she was gone, Mikoto settled a delicate hand on Sakura’s forearm. “I don’t believe you’ve met. This is my husband, Fugaku. Fugaku, this is Sakura. She’s the surgeon who saved Itachi after the incident with Tobirama.”

Sakura tried not to stiffen at Tobirama’s name as she flashed Mikoto a smile. “I didn’t really save him. The injury was fairly simple as far as bullet wounds go.”

“You’re being modest,” Mikoto countered. 

Her kindness made the remaining tension in Sakura’s shoulders fade even as Fugaku inclined his head stiffly. “Pleased to meet you.”

His words were said respectfully enough but Sakura got the feeling his politeness was mostly a formality. She returned the sentiment before her attention turned back to Mikoto when she asked, “You’re back from work late. Was it a busy day?”

“None more so than usual. The afternoons and evenings are always busier than the morning with car accidents and traumas. I was trying to get away a little early this afternoon, but I got called into an emergency surgery for a man who had been impaled with a piece of rebar that lasted nearly ten hours…” She trailed off when she realized exactly what she was describing and a wave of embarrassment swelled within her. “I’m sorry. This is gross and not very good conversation before dinner.”

“At least it’s not as gross as that video you made me watch,” Izuna replied.

There was an amused tilt to his lips that made her insecurities wash away immediately. She couldn’t help but smile in return. “I doubt I could make you do anything, Izuna. You invited yourself in.”

He shrugged one shoulder as he raised his glass of whiskey to his lips. “Same difference.”

Her smile widened, but their conversation was briefly put on hold as Madara’s chef, Konan, arrived with their meals. The woman had deep plum-colored hair that stood out starkly against her white Chef’s coat and a silver piercing below her bottom lip. She had two assistants with her, but they were silent as they set the prepared meal on the table while Konan described the dish. 

Just as Hina had said, dinner consisted of a still-steaming roast with carrots, potatoes and peas cooked into the juices. The instant it was uncovered Sakura’s mouth began to water and she was reminded that she had been interrupted during lunch nearly twelve hours earlier. 

After everyone had been served, the conversation at the table resumed, but Sakura was content to just listen as she dug into her meal. She enjoyed the richness of the roast and the saltiness of the vegetables. It was easily the best meal she’d had in a while and her plate was empty almost embarrassingly quickly.

A jolt of surprise went through her when Madara wordlessly served another helping onto her plate. Her eyes cut to him, but he merely returned the serving utensil to the pan before his attention turned back to the conversation without pause, as if refilling her plate was the most normal thing in the world. Which she supposed it was given he was the host, but her heart picked up in her chest nevertheless.

Sakura ate much more slowly the second time as she forced herself to pay attention to what was being said and not the man beside her. Something that was easier said than done. Now that dinner was winding down, she was warm and full, and the effort it took to keep her eyes open was becoming more difficult with each passing second. She wanted nothing more than to curl up under her blankets and let her exhaustion overcome her. 

Still, Sakura was raised well and she waited until their plates had been cleared and the conversation dwindled before she excused herself. She was certain they had business to discuss anyway. “I’m sorry to cut out early, but I had half a dozen surgeries today and I’m utterly exhausted,” she said with a regretful tone. 

Mikoto smiled reassuringly. “It’s no problem at all, dear. Don’t feel you need to stay up on our account.”

Sakura returned her smile at that before she pushed her chair back and stood. She met Madara’s gaze then, but he did nothing more than nod his head politely. “Good night, Sakura.”

The rest of his company followed his stead before Sakura excused herself.

In her room, Sakura brushed her teeth and changed into her pajamas before she slipped into bed in record time. She was asleep the instant her head hit her pillow. Only for her alarm to go off what felt like mere minutes later. 

Sakura awoke groggily, her head fuzzy and her eyes heavy like lead. She reached out blindly for her phone, her hand searching the nightstand until her fingers touched the device. Her confusion only grew when she realized it wasn’t her alarm, but rather a phone call from Naruto. At three in the morning. 

Irritation welled within her, but it cooled just as quickly as it came knowing he wouldn’t dare call her at that time of night unless it was something important. Really important.

“Naruto, what is it?” she answered, rolling over onto her back.

“A bus crash,” he told her.

Her confusion grew. “A bus crash? How many people ride the bus at this time of night?”

“Apparently an entire high school soccer team. They were returning from a state championship.”

“Fuck,” Sakura murmured, running a hand across her tired eyes. “How many casualties?”

“Three so far, but they're expecting more,” Naruto said. His voice was slightly breathless as if he was moving quickly on the other end of the line. “There’s going to be massive traumas. I figured you might want to get to the hospital before the ER gets overrun."

Sakura was up and moving before he had finished his sentence. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she promised. 

With all thoughts of returning to sleep wiped from her mind, Sakura scrambled to get dressed. She found a clean pair of scrubs in the closet and quickly pulled them on before she brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her hair. She stepped into her shoes before she grabbed her phone from the bed, and her wallet and ID card from the vanity before she hurried out of the room, tying her hair up into a bun in the process.

The rest of the house was silent and for a moment, Sakura wondered how she was going to get to the hospital. She didn’t normally go to work at this hour. Was there an escort on standby for her or would Madara have to drive her himself? Was Madara even still awake? Or would she have to risk driving herself?

Those questions flew through her mind at rapidfire and apprehension began to fill her at the thought of having to wake Madara. The memory of the last time she had disturbed him was still fresh in her mind, but it fell away a minute later when she heard voices and saw the light on in the kitchen.

Both Izuna and Madara were there and their conversation paused abruptly as she raced into the room. Madara eyed her a moment before his gaze flickered to the clock on the microwave, a faint look of confusion passing behind his eyes. She didn’t doubt he was wondering what she was doing at this hour.

“Is everything alright, Sakura?” he asked, unperturbed that she was obviously interrupting.

“Yeah,” she said before quickly shaking her head. “Well no. There was a multiple trauma incident. I’m needed at the hospital right now.”

The urgency in her voice must have been apparent for Madara straightened from the counter. However, before he could reply, Izuna spoke. “I’ll drive you. I’m headed back into the city anyway.”

Relief washed through her and she shot him a smile of thanks before he turned back to his brother.

"I'll give you a call later," Izuna said.

Madara nodded his agreement before the younger of the two slipped out of the kitchen. Sakura made to follow, but she couldn’t resist glancing back at Madara one more time. He was watching her again and she flashed him a quick smile that he returned with a small upward curl in the corner of his mouth.

“Be safe,” he told her.

Those two simple words seemed to ease her anxiety of what lay ahead at the hospital. “You too,” she said.

Then she hurried to catch up with Izuna. 

As it turned out, Izuna was a fast driver. The kind that would have normally given Sakura a heart attack as she gripped her seat and prayed they didn’t crash. Tonight, however, it was a blessing. He zipped down the highway and navigated through the city streets, slipping around the few cars that were still out like water around rocks. 

Less than twenty minutes later, they arrived at the hospital. Already Sakura could see the flashing lights of the ambulances as they brought in the many traumas the ER would likely see that night. The moment the car rolled to a stop, she flung the door open.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said. She didn’t wait for a reply before she jumped out of the passenger seat and closed the door behind her in one fluid motion before she sprinted the rest of the way into the hospital. 

Sakura dropped her things off at her locker before she hurried down to the ER. Already her pager was going off and she silenced the incoming messages as the elevator opened. Almost every bed was full of teenage students, most of which were bleeding and in pain. Her heart immediately went out to them and she grabbed a pair of gloves as she prepared herself to jump right into the fray, only to pause when Naruto called out to her and gestured for her to join him. She was at his side instantly.

“What do you have?” she asked, already knowing they were headed down to the operating room.

He passed her a scan. “Sixteen-year-old female with a fractured pelvis, potentially ruptured kidney and internal bleeding. Her vitals are dropping. I already have her getting prepped in the OR.”

“Shit,” Sakura murmured as she held up the scan towards the lights to get a better look. “This is going to be a handful.”

A grim expression crossed Naruto’s face. “She’s not even the worst off either. Better settle in. It’s going to be a rough night.”

xx

The sun was already down when Madara awoke. Through his bedroom window, he could see the sky was perfectly pitch black, the stars already twinkling in the darkness. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand as he reached for his phone. It was nearly midnight. 

Unlocking his device, Madara scanned through the messages that awaited him and replied to those needing a response. It was a quiet night, much to his relief. He had been busy the last week, coordinating with Izuna and organizing their men lest they find the right moment to strike. He needed a night to just lounge.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Laying on his back, Madara took his time to get out of bed. He read through the major headlines from the last twenty-four hours, his eyes skimming over the latest political scandal, a major bus crash that resulted in half a dozen kids killed, and the corporate merging of two major film companies. He checked in on the stock market after that before he finally pushed himself out of bed, leaving his phone on top of the covers.

In the bathroom, Madara flipped on the light before he peered into the mirror as he ran a hand across his jaw, feeling his day-old stubble. Deciding he could wait another day to shave, he turned on the shower before he gathered a fresh towel as he waited for the water to warm. 

Automatically his mind began to wonder. It was almost this time last night when Sakura had dropped into the kitchen on his and Izuna’s conversation. It surprised him that it had already been that long ago, but he supposed he had been busy over the course of the day as he managed his and his family’s finances. Madara hoped Sakura was curled up in bed now. She had been working a lot of long hours and it showed.

She wasn’t any less attractive to him by any means, but she seemed more subdued. He missed her banter and quick-wit. He missed the way her eyes sparkled and how the corner of her mouth quirked up when she was trying to bite back her teasing smile. 

Against his will, Madara’s member twitched between his legs. He tried to ignore it as he stepped into the shower, but the warm water only helped the blood flow south. It didn’t help matters that all he could think about in that moment was the swell of her hips when she had worn those cotton shorts and the smooth silkiness of her legs. He would love to feel them wrapped around his hips as he sheathed himself inside of her. He wanted to hear that teasing tone melt into pleasured gasps, to feel her inner walls tighten around his length.

Alone, Madara had no qualms about wrapping his fingers around his erection. It was already hot and hard in his hand and he pumped himself slowly as he imagined what it would be like to have Sakura under him, crying his name. He knew he should feel some guilt about having her star in his fantasy, but there were much worse things he had done in his lifetime.

Stroking himself faster, Madara let his imagination go. Sakura was a strong, intelligent woman and the thought of dominating her completely fueled his desires. He wanted to touch her, taste her and kiss her until she was breathless. He wanted her to beg him to let her come; to have her cling to him and take each and every punishing thrust until she fell apart around him. And he wanted her to want him as badly as he desired her.

Bracing his other hand against the wall, Madara came with a low groan. He fisted his length hard as he spilled his seed onto the floor, his pace slowing as he drew out his pleasure. Even in the aftermath of his orgasm, he couldn’t bring himself to feel regret over fantasizing about her. Somehow, that feisty, pink-haired surgeon had captured his attention and he knew himself well enough to know there was no point in denying it. 

Placing his hand under the spray of water, Madara let the evidence of his climax swirl down the drain. He washed his hair and body before he stepped out of the shower. Steam swirled through the air as he dried himself off. He ran a brush through his hair and let his locks air-dry before he pulled on a black pair of sweats and a grey t-shirt. He then picked up his phone and left his room. He had told Sakura’s escort to update him only when there was an issue to provide Sakura some level of privacy, but tonight he was a little curious if she had made it home yet. 

To his surprise, her escort texted back, telling Madara he had dropped Sakura off only ten minutes ago. That relieved him, but his attention turned away from his phone when he saw the kitchen light on down the hall.

Madara paused in the entryway. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Sakura could pull off any look. She was standing with her back to him in a black tank top and her dark navy scrub bottoms. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she had kicked off her shoes somewhere, leaving her in a pair of white ankle socks. His eyes landed on one of the island stools where she had carelessly left her scrub top. On the counter above it was her phone. It was buzzing audibly against the counter, but Sakura didn’t seem to have any intention of answering it. 

His gaze quickly flickered back to her as she reached up and pulled a coffee mug out of the cabinet. The action caused her shirt to ride up a little, exposing the skin of her lower back just above the hem of her pants. In that moment, Madara realized he wanted to taint her flawless skin. He wanted to see a tattoo inked on her; on her shoulder blade or along her ribs. Somewhere it would peek out every now and then, and remind him that she had let him mark her.

Savoring that thought, Madara focused on Sakura again as she poured something into her coffee mug before she drank it with a sharp hiss. He leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms as his eyes zeroed in on what she was drinking.

He recognized the bottle almost instantly. It was his favorite whiskey. It was imported from overseas and hard to come by, but it wasn’t the fact she had opened it and was drinking it that bothered him. It was the fact she was tossing it back like it was cheap tequila with a single goal in mind: to get drunk as quickly as possible.

“You’re supposed to sip it,” Madara said after she let out another hiss on her second shot. 

Sakura jerked her head around to stare at him, her eyes wide in start. When that expression faded, it was replaced with a tight, apologetic look. “Sorry. Can't say I'm in much of a sipping mood.”

It was then that Madara read her face. She was exhausted, that much was obvious, but under all of that, there was something else. Her eyes looked haunted. Like she had witnessed something terrible and been unable to stop it.

It didn't take long for Madara to connect the dots. Almost an entire high school team had been killed in a bus crash. Sakura had run off to the hospital in the middle of the night about the same time. He wouldn't be surprised if she had called time of death on most of those kids herself. 

Madara didn’t bother asking her if she was alright when the answer was so clear. Instead, the sound of her phone filled the silence. He watched it vibrate against the counter until it fell still again.

“Do you need to get that?” he asked.

Sakura didn't even look at it as she poured another shot into her mug. “No. Ino's trying to get me to go out for my birthday, but I just...I can’t.”

Her voice was nearly a whisper as though if she spoke any louder, she might start crying. Instead, she tossed back another shot before she filled her cup once more. 

A frown crossed Madara’s face. He was certainly displeased he hadn’t known it was her birthday, but he was far more preoccupied with the fact that she seemed content to drink herself unconscious for it. 

“You'll make yourself sick drinking like that,” he told her needlessly.

“Can't be any worse than I feel now.”

Even from here he could feel the waves of distress rolling off of her. She had always been an expressive person, but he had never seen her like this. So utterly hopeless.

“Have you had dinner?” he asked.

She gestured towards her mug-turned-shot glass. “You’re looking at it.”

Oh, she had terrible coping mechanisms. She might even be worse than him and against his will, he found himself smiling softly. He didn’t find her current mood humorous by any means, but even upset like this, she still had room for dry sarcasm.

Crossing the room, Madara took the bottle of whiskey and the coffee mug from her hands before she could down another drink. “We’re going to make dinner,” he said as she frowned up at him. “And you’re going to help me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it will make you feel better.”

Sakura didn't look too convinced, but she didn't resist as he set her drink aside and ushered her towards the island counter. He pulled two black aprons from the drawer and tied one around her waist before he did the same for himself. 

Standing at the refrigerator, he eyed the contents inside before he glanced back at her. "How do you feel about a chicken parmesan-style pasta tonight?"

Her lips pursed together and for a moment, he thought she was going to be pointedly negative before she nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good."

A smile curled in the corner of Madara's mouth before he returned to the fridge and began pulling out ingredients. He set the chicken and cheese on the island counter before he retrieved a grater and cutting board from the cabinet. After selecting a knife from the block, he held the tool out towards her before gesturing towards the chicken. “Your skill outmatches mine. Would you mind doing the honors?”

Sakura seemed to scrutinize him a moment, as if searching for a placating tone. When she found none, she accepted the blade. “How big do you want them?”

“One inch cubes would be fine.”

With that decided, Sakura got to work. They stood in comfortable silence as she cut up the chicken while Madara grated the cheeses. He finished first, but he was content to watch her work. There was an ease in the way she held her knife, unlike most new chefs who were still shy about the handling of their blade. She cut through the chicken smoothly in precise strokes, her pieces all similar sizes. When she finished, she set her knife down before she peered up at him, a slightly hesitant look on her face as if she was unsure she had done what he’d asked correctly.

Madara couldn’t help but smile at the endearing look. “Perfect. Thank you,” he said before he grabbed the plates of chicken and cheese in separate hands and made his way towards the stove.

After washing her hands and the knife, she set the blade in the drying board before she joined him at the oven. “Where did you learn to cook?” Sakura asked as she watched him soften some onion and garlic in a large saucepan.

Madara glanced at her for a moment before he slid the chicken into the pan. “My mother. She cooked for us as often as she could. I believe she found it therapeutic.”

“Is that who the rose tattoos are for?” 

Her question made Madara still abruptly. The chicken continued to simmer, but his attention was focused solely upon her as he gauged her expression. There was no maliciousness or ill-intent. Just pure, simple curiosity. 

“Yes, they’re for her,” Madara eventually answered. Then his brow arched questioningly. “How did you know?”

Her expression turned vaguely apologetic. “I may have looked it up. I read that a rose with thorns usually symbolizes loss. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into your personal life.”

He found that funny since she had been living in his house for months now. He supposed they didn’t really know much about each other personally, but he didn’t mind her questions. In fact, it made him smile. He was almost certain that was the doctor in her. When she didn’t know something, she researched it.

“It’s quite alright,” he told her truthfully as he continued cooking. “I think my mother would have liked you. She was always very vocal about women being strong and standing up for themselves, which is why I think she was so attached to Mikoto.” He then side-eyed her. “She would have enjoyed watching you challenge me.”

Sakura frowned. “I don’t challenge you.”

“You told me no when I first ordered you to attend to Shisui in our first meeting,” Madara reminded her. “There are very few people with that much bravery.”

She stared at him a moment before her lips softened into a warm smile. A small silence fell between them as he stirred the pot until Sakura eventually murmured, “I wish I could have met your mom. Would your dad have approved of me too?”

“My father didn’t approve of anything. Myself included,” he told her. He forced a smile onto his face to curb the harshness of the ugly truth. “What of your parents?”

“My dad died when I was two. I don’t remember him. My mom never really got over it, but she was kind and she did the best she could. She died a few years ago from cancer.”

Her tone was light, but Madara could hear the emotion just underneath. He redirected the conversation. “You don’t have any siblings though?” he asked. It was more of a statement than a question. He had looked into her background months ago, before he had called upon her for her service. 

“No,” Sakura shook her head.

“Does that bother you?” he asked. Madara himself couldn’t imagine a world without Izuna in it. It sounded lonely. 

She shrugged one shoulder. “Can’t miss what you’ve never had, but it’s fine. Ino is pretty much my sister at this point.”

He took her word for it. Madara had never seen the woman himself, but after hearing Sakura talk about her, he could tell Sakura cared about this woman a great deal.

Their conversation paused there as Madara had Sakura help him pour in the sauce and the noodles before he covered the dish and let it simmer for a few minutes. As they waited, he cleaned the rest of the dishes as she pulled out plates and forks for them. 

The last step was to add the cheese and he had Sakura do it while he stirred the pan. When it was all in, she stood at his shoulder as she stared down at the meal. “Wow, this looks delicious.”

Her compliment did dangerous things to his ego, but nothing warmed him more than the soft smile on her face. He was just relieved to see that haunted look gone from her eyes. 

“It’ll taste even better,” he promised before he dished both of them up. 

Sakura looked content to just eat right there at the stove, but he grabbed both their plates before she could and led her to the counter. They set their aprons aside before they took their seats on each side of one corner of the island, still side-by-side but angled so they faced each other.

Upon her first bite, Sakura let out a moan that made heat stir low in Madara’s abdomen. “This is so good,” she groaned. “If you keep cooking like this, I may never leave.” 

The masculine pride within him swelled again and he watched her dig into their meal happily as he considered what she had just said. To be perfectly honest, he hadn’t given much thought to her leaving. With Tobirama still lurking in the shadows, Madara didn’t feel comfortable enough to find Sakura a safehouse of her own yet, but there was something more than that. He found he enjoyed having her there. She was a warm presence to the bleakness that came with the mafia life.

“I’m pleased to know it’s that easy to make you stay,” he replied.

Sakura let out a soft laugh. “Well, I’m not that easy.”

Madara’s brow arched. As if realizing what she had just said, she stilled abruptly and her eyes widened minutely as a blush dusted across her cheeks.

“Duly noted,” he murmured, unable to stop his smirk from showing.

Her blush deepened further, but she didn’t shy away from him. He liked that she didn’t for he found her embarrassment utterly adorable, but he gave her some relief as he glanced at the counter and realized they hadn’t anything to drink. 

Pushing his stool back, Madara stood and rounded the counter to approach the wall where the cabinets were mounted. He pulled out two wine glasses before he turned back to her. “I know you were drinking whiskey earlier, but would you be opposed to wine?”

When Sakura shook her head, he grabbed a bottle of white wine from the fridge and opened it. He poured them both a glass and passed her one when he returned to where they were sitting. She accepted it gratefully before he raised his glass towards her.

“Happy birthday, Sakura.”

The smile she sent him was a little emotional, but she toasted her glass against his before they drank. 

“Who would have thought that the jerk who kidnapped me two months ago -  _ twice  _ \- would turn out to be not such a jerk after all,” Sakura said. 

Her smile had turned playful but there was a softness to her expression that made even his hardened heart beat just a little faster. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Don't worry though. I won't tell anyone," she teased. 

Madara chuckled. "No one would believe you anyways."

That made her laugh again and the sound did pleasant things in his lower abdomen. 

They finished eating soon after that and Madara took the plates to the sink to wash later. Sakura tried to help, but he wouldn’t allow her and she leaned against the counter as she watched him move the leftovers to a container before he placed the pan in the sink as well.

“Sorry for raiding your liquor,” she said as he grabbed her abandoned coffee mug and dumped the leftover whiskey down the drain.

“I don’t mind sharing,” he told her. 

Sakura frowned a moment longer before the look cleared to be replaced with curiosity. “Why are you being so nice to me? Not just now, but all the time.”

Madara didn’t immediately offer her an answer as he washed and dried his hands, leaving the dirty dishes in the sink. When he turned to look at her, there was a soft smile on her face.

“You’ve been so kind to me. You really didn’t have to do any of this. I don’t mean tonight - well, tonight too - but since I got here, you’ve been really considerate and I wanted...well, I just want to say…”

“Thanks?” Madara provided when she trailed off.

He had come to recognize Sakura wasn’t great at saying how she felt when it came to personal things. She had no problems expressing her concerns and opinions when it was about the health and safety of those around her, but the more vulnerable part of her was something she seemed to struggle with. Still, Madara found it endearing. He didn’t need to hear the words. He could clearly see what she was feeling. It was written all over her face.

At least he thought it was until she pushed herself onto her toes and kissed him.

It was on the cheek, barely more than a ghost of her lips against his skin, but it stirred something within him nevertheless. That feeling spiked sharply when she dropped back down to her regular height and her eyes fell to his mouth. They lingered only for a moment before her gaze flickered back up to meet his.

Her lips parted slightly, as if there was a thought stirring on her tongue. Madara didn’t give her the opportunity to form it. Not before he bent his head and softly pressed his mouth to hers. 

If Sakura was surprised by his abruptness, she didn’t show it. She kissed him back, meeting the gentle press of his lips as her hands came to rest on his chest. They explored the other slowly, their mouths meeting once and twice before sealing together fully. His hands slipped down her waist to settle on the swell of her hips before he turned them and slowly steered Sakura backwards until the small of her back pressed against the edge of the counter, effectively trapping her. The movement made her let out a small noise of surprise before it melted into a throaty moan. That simple sound made his desire flare red hot and his kiss turned hungry as all the tension that had been building up for weeks now threatened to fully unleash. 

Releasing his grip on her waist, Madara tangled one hand into Sakura's hair possessively while the other settled against her ribcage just under her arm. Exactly where he would enjoy seeing ink branded into her skin. His fingers tug into her hair at the nape of her neck and he angled her head to his liking before he slipped his tongue past her lips, tasting the crisp note of wine they had been drinking. It had never tasted more delicious in his life. 

He half-expected her to struggle to keep pace with his sudden fervency, but her fingers only curled into the material of his shirt as she pulled him closer. Her boldness excited him and heat rapidly pooled low in his abdomen. He pushed her harder against the counter as his earlier fantasy resurfaced in his mind - of dominating her and making her beg for him - but he resisted the urge to slip his hand under her shirt to feel the silky softness, knowing that once he did, he would be hard pressed to stop. 

Reeling himself in, Madara raised his hands until he could cup her jaw with both palms. He pressed two more lingering kisses to her mouth before he finally pulled away. Sakura’s expression was slightly dazed when she opened her eyes, but he could clearly see the lust lingering in the depths of her emerald orbs. Her lips were red and slightly swollen, and her breath was leaving her in short pants. The sight was so intoxicating, he nearly gave into his urges again. 

“You're stunning,” he murmured as he slipped his hands to her waist.

The compliment made her cheeks flush a light pink, but she smiled up at him, her green eyes bright. She released her grip on his shirt to smooth some hair away from his face. "You're not too bad yourself," she returned, her voice low and slightly breathless. 

A smirk curled in the corner of Madara's mouth. Sakura's gaze flickered down to his lips but his hands tightened on her waist in silent warning. "As much as I would enjoy familiarizing myself with you  _ intimately _ , you need to rest. You've had a long day."

Something akin to a pout crossed her mouth and she looked like she wanted to argue, but it was interrupted by a yawn. She ran a hand down her face, as if trying to physically push the sleep away. When it passed, she rested her hands just above his hips like she wasn’t quite ready to stop touching him. "Fine, but I'm not done with you yet."

Madara's smirk widened at her bold statement. He wondered if the whiskey was finally starting to affect her, but he did nothing more than place a kiss to her temple. "We are nowhere even remotely close to being done," he promised with a heated whisper against her skin.

He felt her shiver in anticipation, but he forced himself to step away from her even as her hands curled into the fabric of his shirt at his stomach. 

A bit reluctantly, Sakura finally left the kitchen to get some much needed rest. Even after she was gone, Madara's arousal continued to throb between his legs. He could still feel her lips against his and he poured himself a few fingers of the whiskey Sakura had opened earlier as he allowed himself a few moments to relive what had just happened. 

She had tasted better than he could have ever imagined with her sweet moans and soft curves. His fantasy paled in comparison to the real thing and it only made him want her more. He ached for her. It would have been so easy to have just hoisted her up on the counter and taken her then.

It surprised Madara how vehemently he desired her. He had courted a number of women in his life and while some had lasted longer than others, he had never been drawn to another woman as strongly as he was to Sakura. He craved her sexually. It was hard not to with her gorgeous smile and stunning eyes, not to mention her lithe frame and tight ass, but it was more than that. He knew it was, otherwise he would have had no qualms with letting her drink herself unconscious tonight. 

Madara cared about her. He cared about her health and her wellbeing, physically and mentally. And if he knew he could trust himself not to give into her touches and kisses, he would have enjoyed laying with her tonight until she fell asleep, until he was certain her dreams weren't haunted.

Still, there was a voice in the back of his mind, urging him to stay away from her. To keep his distance if only to keep her safe. For he feared if they grew any closer, Sakura would become the centerpiece in this inevitable war.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who commented - really I can't stress enough how much they mean to me. For those of you who are you unaware, my computer battery has died. I am trying to write both on my phone and by stealing the bf's computer when he isn't looking. I should have a new battery in 1-2 weeks, so just know that until I get it, updates will be irregular. 
> 
> Also, in case you missed it, please be sure to check out the artwork by L.Pilz commissioned by the wonderful Birkastan2018 of Madara in Under the Knife. Tattoos and all!! (And there are many delicious tattoos....)
> 
> https://lpilz-blog.tumblr.com/post/617237477712855040/tattooed-madara-commissioned-by-birkastan2018-as


	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter Ten_ **

Madara knew the instant Sakura was home. He heard her voice from the entryway and he gathered up the paperwork he was collecting in the downstairs office before he went to greet her. Her back was to him when he arrived and he watched silently as she shrugged out of her peacoat before she handed it to the butler. 

The older gentleman accepted it before his eyes slid to Madara. With a respectful bow, the butler acknowledged him before he bid them both a good evening and made himself scarce. The action caused a look of confusion to pass over Sakura’s face as she turned around, only for it to be replaced with a warm smile.

Alone, Madara returned it. "Welcome home," he greeted as he approached her.

Her smile widened and she leaned into his touch as he brushed a stray strand away from her eyes before he cupped her jaw. 

In that moment, Madara wanted nothing more than to bend his head and capture her soft lips in a kiss, but the hour was still early and the staff had yet to retire for the evening. Instead, he let his thumb trace the curve of her bottom lip before he made himself let his hand fall away.

"Did you have a good day at work?" he asked.

A wide smile stretched across her face at his question. "Actually, yes. It was an amazing day,” she said as she made her way towards the stairs. She stopped on the first step before she turned back to him. Like this, they were the same height. “We had a shooting victim come in this afternoon. The bullet went through his left ventricle, which some would argue is the most important chamber of the heart, but I plugged the hole with my finger until we got him down to the OR. I then had to suture around my finger while slowly withdrawing it. He actually survived.”

Sakura was absolutely beaming with excitement. Madara had never seen such a wide grin on her face. He had heard of the adrenaline high some surgeons got after a successful surgery, but he had never given it much thought before now. He couldn’t help but smile proudly at her. 

“Well done,” he praised. “I know I can’t think of a more capable surgeon.”

If possible her smile widened further and she reached out to place her palm on his chest. “I missed you today. Maybe we can celebrate my success tonight. Can you stay for dinner?”

As if on cue, Madara’s phone rang in his pocket. He pulled out the device to see Itachi’s name on the caller ID and Sakura’s hand slid away as he answered. “Itachi.”

“We have a problem, uncle,” he began.

That much was already obvious. Madara had sent his younger nephew to check on one of the warehouses. The fact he was calling wasn’t a good sign. 

“What kind?” Madara asked.

On the other end of the line, Itachi paused before he let out a heavy sigh. “You need to come down here. It’s better if you see it for yourself.”

Madara wasn’t a huge fan of Itachi’s cryptic words, but his nephew had never failed him before. Keeping his expression neutral, he murmured his agreement before he hung up his phone and pocketed it again. He could already see the light of excitement flickering out in Sakura’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, reaching out to brush his knuckles against her cheek. “Next time. I promise.”

“It’s fine,” she shrugged. But it was obvious to both of them how tightly she was holding onto her smile, if only to relieve his guilt for disappointing her.

He leaned in to press a soft but quick kiss to her lips. “I’ll see you when I return if it’s not too late.”

That renewed some of the warmth in her expression and she gave him a small but honest smile before he turned and called for the staff to bring his car around. After returning his documents to his office, Madara left the house and descended the front stairs to find his Maserati awaiting him. The moment he was behind the wheel, he shifted into drive before he hit the gas and sped out of the property towards the city. 

In a little corner of downtown near the shipping yards was a small warehouse tucked amongst the larger and busier businesses. Even at this time of night, the port was active, exchanging containers from other countries and distributing goods and products. 

Madara parked in the back lot at his warehouse. There were a half dozen other cars in the lot, but he recognized Itachi’s sleek sports car. Shisui’s was parked beside it. After killing his engine, Madara slipped out of his vehicle before he crossed the lot. The concrete was still wet from the earlier storm and there was a chill in the air, but he merely pulled the collar of his coat higher around his neck. Itachi was standing on the other side of the door when Madara entered.

“Uncle,” he greeted.

Madara inclined his head in response. “I’m here. Show me what the problem is.”

“I’ll warn you, you won’t be happy,” Itachi muttered, but he led Madara down the hallway nevertheless and into the large loading bay where the labor for this warehouse operated.

Only where it should have been bustling with workers as they arranged shipments and got packages ready to ship, it was silent. There was an eerie stillness over the entire room. The only sound was their footsteps and the quiet clinking of chains as they swung high up in the rafters. 

As soon as he stepped into the room, Madara stopped dead. Even in the lowlighting, he could clearly make out the two dozen bodies strewn about the room. Blood pooled around the corpses, trickling into the cracks and staining the dusty concrete a sticky black, and the two dozen crates that were supposed to have been delivered that afternoon were nowhere to be seen. 

Madara felt his temper rise. “What the fuck happened?” he snapped.

Across the room, Shisui was crouched over a body. As soon as he spotted his uncle, he straightened. “The Senju happened.”

Both Itachi and Madara glanced at him before he gestured towards the body slain at his feet. He waited until they had both approached before he pointed to the dead man’s inner arm. Amongst all the blood and grime Madara made out part of a tattoo. Using the toe of his shoe, he pushed the arm over until he could see the entire thing.

The image was of a mirrored pair of ‘C’s connected together by a single line. It was a Vajra, a symbol common within Buddhism and more importantly, a pledge of loyalty to the Senju family. 

Madara resisted his urge to kick the corpse in frustration, but he couldn’t stop his glare from showing as he peered around the warehouse. All of the product that was supposed to be delivered today was gone. Hundreds of thousands of dollars were missing. No,  _ stolen _ . This was one of his more profitable warehouses. And now it was nothing more than a slaughterhouse. He wanted to burn it down to the ground in anger. 

“At least we got lucky and no one heard the gunshots and called the police,” Shisui said.

Itachi hummed thoughtfully. “I doubt it was luck. A thunderstorm rolled through earlier this evening. Judging by the state of the bodies, I would say probably about the same time as the shooting.”

“Smart move on Tobirama’s part.” 

Madara nearly scoffed at his oldest nephew. “You give Tobirama too much credit. This was too well planned out to be Tobirama’s doing.”

“What do you mean?” Shisui asked.

Madara didn’t immediately answer as he inhaled a controlled breath, a frown settling deeply into the corners of his mouth. “Hashirama is back.”

Behind him, both his nephews still before Itachi heaved a heavy sigh and Shisui cursed under his breath. “You think this is because of Sakura?” Shisui asked.

The same thought had crossed Madara’s mind, but even with his back to his nephews, he kept his expression neutral. “It’s possible. Hashirama is incredibly protective of Tobirama after the death of their two younger brothers. The incident with Tobirama might have been enough to force Hashirama’s hand.”

“The Senju had two other brothers?”

Madara turned around at Shisui’s question. It had been so long ago Madara nearly forgot his nephews were too young to be aware of the events that had taken place so many years prior. “Yes, there were once four Senju brothers,” he told them, causing the cousins to briefly glance at one another. “Kawarama and Itama were the youngest. They were murdered some decades ago by a known associate. You both were too young at the time to remember. I myself was only sixteen.”

“How old were they?” Shisui asked.

“They would have been your age.”

Even Itachi’s eyes widened minutely. “That would have made them five, maybe six.”

Madara nodded solemnly. “Hence Hashirama’s protectiveness over his only remaining brother. You were there when Sakura shot Tobirama, Itachi. You will need to watch your back more carefully.”

“I’m not concerned with Tobirama. I can handle him easily enough,” Itachi said with a faint shrug.

His nonchalance made Madara’s eyes narrow. “Perhaps, but it’s Hashirama you need to be cautious of. He’s far more clever and calculating. That much should be obvious to you by the events of tonight.” 

As if to emphasize his point, Madara briefly glanced at the body at his feet. When he turned back to Itachi, his nephew’s expression was still indifferent but his eyes were sharper, more focused. He was heeding Madara’s warning. 

“What do you want us to do?” Itachi asked.

Madara slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Get this place cleaned up. Then I want you to burn that laundromat to the ground.”

“And if there’s people there?” Shisui inquired.

“Leave no survivors.”

With his orders given, Madara left the warehouse again. He had nearly a dozen phone calls to make to reroute products to ensure he didn’t lose any more business. Hashirama knew how hard of a blow this would be to Madara’s profits. It wouldn’t destabilize him by any means, but it would be enough to make an impact if he didn’t move quickly enough. 

After slipping behind the wheel of his car again, Madara navigated back towards the highway to check on his other major warehouses. As he drove, he used the touchpad on the dashboard to begin dialing his contacts. He had his men divert less important deliveries and freeze all unnecessary shipments until he had time to sit down and view his accounts. 

It took Madara a few hours to organize all the chaos. By the time he returned home, it was well into the night. Mentally, he was exhausted, but he couldn’t afford to sleep. He still hadn’t heard from Izuna. He had called his brother hours ago after leaving the warehouse and had yet to get a reply. It wasn’t uncommon but it was annoying. Madara needed to meet with him to figure out how they would move forward next. The sooner they got a hold of the situation, the easier it would be to decide how they would strike back. Madara hoped that by attacking Tobirama’s primary facility, it would give them a few extra days to come up with a strategy.

After quickly stripping off his coat, Madara ascended the stairs to the third floor. In his office, he gathered his computer and slipped it into a locked case before he returned to the ground floor. His mind was still reeling with everything that had happened so far that night. He would grab one quick cup of coffee to keep his mind sharp and then he would head straight to his brother’s.

Or at least that had been the plan until he passed by the sitting room. 

The light in the corner was still on and he paused when he found Sakura reading on the couch. She was wearing a baggy, grey shirt and a pair of red cotton shorts with little ankle socks. The combination made her legs look long even with her knees bent and tucked towards her chest. Her hair was down around her shoulders in soft waves and she was wearing those glasses again. The ones that made her look utterly sexy.

With a glance at the clock, Madara saw it was nearly three in the morning, and he couldn’t help but wonder what in the world she was still doing awake after working such a long shift. 

At the sound of his footsteps, Sakura looked up from her book before a small smile stretched across her lips. “You're back," she greeted. 

He set his computer down on the padded chair against the wall before he took a few more steps into the room. “Yes, but not for long.”

“Oh,” she said. 

Her face didn’t betray anything but he heard the small infliction in her tone.  _ Had she stayed up for him? _ The thought made something dangerous pool in the pit of his stomach. 

“Why are you still awake?” he asked.

Sakura pursed her lips briefly. “Just couldn’t sleep. Then I started reading.” 

“Anything good?”

She glanced at the cover briefly and Madara thought he recognized the spine, but she merely shrugged, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Interesting enough, I suppose. Though, your library kinda sucks.”

Even with the stress of everything weighing in the back of his mind, she still managed to pull a chuckle of amusement from him. “Well, you are more than welcome to stock it with some of your own. Just try not to break the shelves with your medical books.”

“You callin’ my medical books fat?”

“I would never do such a thing,” he teased, but his smile quickly lost its luster before fading completely. 

Her eyes seemed to search his face for a moment. “Rough night?”

A ‘rough night’ was a nice way of putting it. His thoughts immediately drifted back to Hashirama. In just a single night, the oldest Senju brother had managed to throw a wrench into Madara’s operations. It wouldn’t dismantle his empire by any means, but Hashirama had caused enough of an upset to make his arrival known. 

However, the even more concerning fact was that Hashirama had returned at all. There were very few reasons why he would after all this time and Madara didn’t believe in coincidences enough to think that his appearance wasn’t linked to Sakura. If there was one thing Madara was certain of, it was that Hashirama was aware of her. She was in more danger than she had ever been before. 

As if his thoughts had shown through his expression, a look of concern crossed Sakura’s face and she sat up a little straighter. “Hey, are you alright? What happened?"

Madara didn't provide her an answer. He didn't want to trouble her with the burdens of his world, but the overwhelming urge to protect her overcame him and his body was moving before his mind could catch up. 

In the blink of an eye, he crossed the room to where she was sitting. He placed one hand on the back of the couch near her head before he bent down and crashed his mouth against hers. A noise of surprise escaped her before she melted under him. The instant she responded, what little self-control he had remaining vanished.

Kneeling on the couch beside her hip, Madara twisted his fingers into her hair before he angled her head to his liking. Sakura whimpered low in her throat at his bruising force, but she was only too eager when he slipped his tongue past her lips until all he could taste and feel was her. He dominated her completely, taking everything he could from her. As if the brightness in her would balance out the darkness in him. 

They were both breathless when Madara finally pulled away. Their ragged breathing echoed in the quiet room, but he didn't give her the chance to speak as he settled himself onto the couch between her legs.

"Madar-ah!" 

His name ended in a yelp of surprise when he gripped her knees and pulled her down the cushions until her thighs were on either side of his hips and his growing hardness was pressed firmly against her center. Her book hit the floor with a thud, but he hardly noticed. She was wearing those shorts again. The little cotton pair that hugged her hips and emphasized her tight ass. They had ridden up and every muscle in his body froze to ice when his eyes zeroed in on the scarring on her inner thigh. 

It was the first time he had seen the injury since the night of Tobirama's abduction. The wound had healed well but he could still clearly read the kanji that had been painfully carved into her skin.

_ Little treasure.  _

A sudden wave of possessiveness swelled within Madara and he gripped her thighs tightly as he kissed her harder than before. He shrugged out of his suit jacket before he ground himself against her. White hot pleasure jolted through him and he growled at the muffled moan that caught in Sakura's throat. 

When he pulled back again, her eyes were hooded and her lips were swollen. She looked utterly delicious. He wanted to memorize every inch of her. He wanted to make her his. He wanted to mark her until there was no question of whose protection she was under.

“You drive me crazy,” Madara growled. “You make me want to lose myself in you.”

He barely recognized his own voice. It was dark and heavy with lust, but it seemed to have an effect on Sakura for she arched beneath him, her hips rocking against his as her fingers wrinkled his shirt. “Please...”

That single heated whisper did delicious things to his ego and he bent his head to attack her throat with tongue and teeth. He bit down on her pulse point hard enough to make her cry out as his hand fisted the material of her shirt near her ribs. Inwardly, he cursed at all the clothes between them. He had never wanted someone so badly in his life like if he didn't bury himself inside her soon, he would burst into flames.

Sakura's fingers tangled into his hair as he continued to nip at the sensitive skin of her throat. She was still panting hard, little gasps of pleasure escaping her as he pressed himself against the thin material between her legs. Madara slipped a hand under her shirt, the hem bunching at his wrist as he dragged his palm upwards until he reached her breast. If he wasn't already rock hard, he would undoubtedly be now upon finding she wasn't wearing a bra. There was nothing in his way to stop him from cupping the soft flesh.

"Madara, I-ah!" she cried in pleasure.

He drew the sound from her again when he pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Fuck!" she whimpered. It was only the second time he had ever heard her swear and that single word made his desires flare sharply. 

Bunching her shirt up the rest of the way, he kissed the soft skin between her breasts before he captured her other nipple with his mouth. She threw her head back with a throaty groan as her fingers tightened in his hair. The slight pinch of pain in his scalp only urged him on. 

"Madara, wait," she pleaded even as she rocked against him again. He nipped the pebbled peak before he soothed the sting away with his tongue, drawing another sharp gasp from her. Then her hands found his shoulders before she pushed hard enough to get his attention. "Madara, stop."

And he did.

Picking his head up, Madara found Sakura’s face flushed and her breath leaving her in heavy pants. Her eyes were the darkest of emeralds and full of obvious desire and lust. It was enough to nearly make him claim her lips and grind himself into her center again. He could already feel the damp heat between her legs where his erection was straining against his pants, but there was something else in her eyes. Something that looked a lot like uncertainty, as if she was afraid of what came next. There were so many thoughts flickering behind her eyes that he couldn't keep up and with a sudden flood of sharp disappointment, he knew he couldn't go further with her. At least not right now.

The hottest embers of his arousal cooled abruptly. Closing his eyes, Madara inhaled deeply through his nose as he willed his body to settle down. When he was certain he could look at her without giving into his basic instincts, he opened his eyes again. 

Sakura was still peering up at him, her expression less uncertain and more concerned. He raised his hand from the swell of her hip to pull her shirt back down before he smoothed her hair back where he had gripped it so possessively only a minute earlier.

"Forgive me," he murmured.

The tight grip she had on his shoulders finally loosened. "I... I'm sorry," she said just as softly. "I just..."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he told her when she struggled for her words. "I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have attacked you like that."

An odd expression crossed her face like whatever she was thinking actually pained her. “I want you. I want you more than I should, but we can’t. I just...I’m frightened.”

Those two words gave Madara pause. He searched her face for a long moment before it dawned on him that it wasn’t just uncertainty reflecting in her eyes, but also fear. It struck him like a physical blow. Even after all this time, he still frightened her. An unsettling feeling curled deep in his stomach, sitting like a stone in his gut.

Slowly Madara untangled himself from her before he pushed himself upright and sat back on the couch. Sakura followed his lead, pressing her knees together until the scarring on her leg was hidden again as she smoothed her hair down. 

A heavy silence pressed between them. For the first time that he could remember, Madara didn’t quite know what to say. Sakura was just as quiet beside him before she finally broke the tension.

“Are you upset with me?” she asked softly. 

Immediately he shook his head. “No.”

“Then what are you thinking?”

Even if he could find the words, Madara didn’t think he could tell her. He couldn’t even find it within himself to look her way. Her words were still swirling around in his mind like a hurricane. Chaotic and full of destruction. “It’s nothing.”

“Please talk to me.”

The desperation was apparent in her voice, but Madara was saved from replying when his phone rang. Reaching down to where he had discarded his jacket, he withdrew the device from the pocket. It was Shisui. 

"I need to get this," he told her as he stood. He didn't dare look her way. He couldn't bear to see her expression right now and without a backwards glance, he grabbed his computer and left the room.

Madara let Shisui’s call go to voicemail. Only once he was back in his car and was well down the road did he finally return his nephew’s call. “What’s your status?” Madara asked, trying to keep his tone even.

“Just wanted to let you know the cleanup team just finished. We scrubbed the warehouse too to make it look abandoned. I figured you would want to move the operation somewhere else,” Shisui said.

At least that was one piece of good news. “We’ll figure out where to move it once we know Hashirama’s motives. What of the laundromat?”

“Itachi and I are on our way there now,” he answered. “Should be there within the next few minutes. I’ll text you when the job is done.”

Madara made a noise of consent before he asked after a brief pause. “Have you heard anything from Izuna?”

“Not tonight. Do you need me to call him for something?” Shisui asked.

“No,” Madara quickly declined. It had been several hours now since he had called his younger brother. Of all nights for Izuna to not answer his phone…

Madara hung up with Shisui after that. Unfortunately, Izuna’s condo was in the middle of the city. It took another twenty minutes to get there, which meant another twenty minutes of Madara recalling the events that had just taken place in his living room. He tried to push it out of his mind, but Sakura’s words repeated sharply in his memory.

_ “I want you, but we shouldn't.”  _ Followed by those two terrible words,  _ “I’m frightened.” _

That single sentence hit him harder than he had expected. Madara knew every reason why they shouldn’t be involved, some of which were of his own misgivings, but that didn’t make him want her any less. And to learn that she was still frightened of him…

He thought he had made it clear to her he would never harm her, but even with her own obvious attraction towards him, she had just informed him that she still didn’t trust him. An unpleasant heaviness settled firmly under his ribcage. It was almost laughable how terrible his night had turned out. 

Pressing on the gas a little harder, Madara arrived at Izuna’s faster than usual. His younger brother’s condo was protected behind two gates. The first required a keycard to pass before the guard shack could even be reached. They recognized Madara immediately and let him through the second gate without question, even at this late hour. 

After parking, Madara grabbed his computer from the passenger seat and made his way towards the elevator in the corner of the garage. Izuna lived on the top floor and Madara had to swipe a second keycard before he was able to activate the button for his brother’s condo. At the highest floor, the elevator opened again into a short hallway where the front door was located. There was a small keypad and a thumb print scanner, but Madara merely pressed the buzzer before he waited. 

Fortunately, only a few minutes passed before Madara heard a series of deadbolts slide out of place before the door opened. Izuna stood on the other side. His hair was a little tangled and he was wearing nothing other than a pair of navy basketball shorts, but Madara knew his younger brother well enough to know he hadn’t been sleeping. He had company over. There was only one woman his brother trusted enough to allow at this particular condo. 

Automatically Madara’s eyes flickered past Izuna’s shoulder, but with the sharp turn at the end of the hallway, he couldn’t see much of the condo other than a small section of the living room just beyond. His attention returned to Izuna when he asked, “Madara, what are you doing here?”

“You’re not answering your phone and we had a slight incident this evening,” he replied.

His tone must have been sharper than he intended for Izuna blinked in mild surprise. “Shit, I must have left it on silent after my meeting this afternoon. What kind of problem?”

Madara didn’t answer as Izuna stepped aside to let him in. The younger brother closed the door and secured it before he led the way into the condo. Madara had been there dozens of times before but he gladly let his younger brother lead him in lest he see something he preferred not to.

The condo itself was massive. It took up the entire top floor of the building, the layout spacious but not empty. The living room had a glass wall overlooking the city. On clear days, Madara could normally see the ocean in the distance but after the heavy storm from earlier that evening, it was dark with clouds and mist.

Turning his sights away from the view, Madara peered up towards the loft where Izuna’s bedroom was. From this angle, he couldn’t see into it, but he thought he heard the soft rustle of movement from above.

Madara turned to his brother. “Is she here?”

“If by ‘she’ you mean me then yes, I’m here,” another voice said.

Madara turned back towards the stairs as none other than Mei descended the steps. She was closer in age to Madara than Izuna but she still looked gorgeous with her bright red hair and long, toned legs. They looked longer now since all she seemed to be wearing was an oversized, dark green shirt. Judging by the way it hung off her, Madara guessed it belonged to his brother.

“Hello, Madara,” she greeted as she stopped before him. She was a tall woman but she still stood a good few inches shorter than him.

Madara inclined his head politely. “Hello, Mei.”

A smile crossed her cherry red lips before she turned and made her way into the kitchen, leaving the pair of men to follow. Madara dropped his computer case on the island counter as Mei pulled a glass from the cabinet before she filled it with water from the dispenser in the refrigerator door, completely at home. 

“It’s a little late for a social visit, isn’t it?” she asked, leaning against the opposite counter before she raised her glass to her lips.

“It would be if that was why I was here,” Madara replied calmly.

Mei studied him a moment before her eyes flickered to Izuna. He smiled regretfully. “Sorry, darling, but I need you to leave a little early tonight.”

Mei pouted for show before she shrugged and straightened from the counter. She placed her glass on the granite top before she cast Madara a half-hearted glare. “You know, every time you show up, you ruin my fun.”

“I’m sure Izuna will make it up to you at some point,” Madara retorted flatly. 

Her eyes flickered back to Izuna and a secretive smile crossed her red lips as if she were thinking of all the ways he might do just that before she finally turned and made her way back towards the bedroom to get dressed and to collect the rest of her things. Izuna made coffee as they waited for her, as if his younger brother knew a visit from Madara this time of night wouldn’t be quick. Madara merely sipped his coffee as Izuna escorted Mei out. He waited until he heard the door close behind her before he withdrew his computer from his case and booted the system up.

Izuna ran a hand through his hair as he reentered the kitchen. “So, what’s this ‘slight incident’ that made you deem it necessary to cut short my night?”

“Hashirama’s back.”

Madara didn’t bother sugarcoating it, causing Izuna to still with his coffee halfway to his mouth. “What?” 

“He took down our warehouse in the downtown shipping yard and stole the stores. All of them,” Madara informed him.

“Fuck,” Izuna cursed, setting his coffee back down as he ran his other hand through his hair again. “That was supposed to bring in a shit ton of money. What are we going to tell our clients?”

“I already have our men pulling stores from our other locations,” Madara said calmly. He waited for his computer to load before he punched in his password and began drawing up their accounts. “We won’t cover all our losses but it’ll be only a fraction of what it would have been.”

His brother swore under his breath again before he shook his head. “How did he know where to hit?”

“We’ve been using the same warehouse for near that of a decade. I’m sure Hashirama’s been aware of it for some time and was waiting for an opportunity such as this to use that information to his advantage,” Madara said calmly. 

“Yeah, but why now?”

“I believe it has something to do with Itachi’s encounter with Tobirama.”

“Itachi’s encounter? You mean when Sakura shot Tobirama in the face?” Izuna asked. “Wait, does she know about Hashirama?”

“I haven’t told her.”

“When are you going to?”

Madara didn’t offer his brother a reply as he kept his eyes focused on his computer. 

Izuna could only stare as he read his brother’s silence. “You don’t want to,” he said, his voice full of disbelief. “Madara, you need to tell Sakura about Hashirama. For her own safety.”

“What good would it do?” Madara said as he finally pulled his eyes away from his screen to glare at his sibling.

“You can’t be this ignorant, Madara,” he said, shaking his head. “You and I both know how protective Hashirama is of Tobirama. He will go for her. She needs to be aware.” 

Madara already knew that. He knew he needed to tell Sakura, but all he could think about was that moment in the living room less than an hour ago. He had been nearly out of his mind with desire for her and she had been so soft and responsive below him. There was nothing in the world that could have stopped him from taking her right then. Except her.

That terrible weight was still firmly planted in his chest at her words. It felt as if he had failed her. And now Hashirama had promptly dropped himself into the picture. This was not a conversation he was looking forward to. 

Madara took a moment to carefully store all of his emotions away where he could deal with them later. Once he was sure he had reigned them all in, he peered at his brother again. “I will talk to Sakura. For now, we have other work to see to.”

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys. I was traveling and then I got slammed with a case of shingles that made it so the only thing I could do for two weeks was pretty much lay in bed. Thank you everyone for your amazing comments. I am still unfortunately waiting for my computer battery. I am hoping it will arrive sometime this week, but as far as Mexican mail goes there's like a 50/50 shot it might go missing before being delivered ha
> 
> Thank you again for reading! Please don't forget to leave a comment if you enjoyed this chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

**_Chapter Eleven_ **

A headache was beginning to throb against Madara’s skull. It sat just behind his eye, pounding in rhythm with the near silent tick of the clock against the far wall. He tried to ignore it as he focused on his work, the computer monitors before him an organized mess of numbers and statistics.

On the other side of his office, Mikoto was sitting with her husband, glasses of blood red wine in their cups. Their voices were low but the conversation carried across the room in hushed murmurs. Madara drowned the pair out as they spoke, his attention instead focused on the numbers. At least until he heard the door to his office open and close again. 

Automatically his eyes flickered up before his gaze shifted to Mikoto as she adjusted on the couch to better look at him. His brow arched expectantly. "How's it going over there?" she asked, her glass of wine held nimbly between her fingers.

With a quick sweep of the room, Madara realized the door had been Fugaku exiting the room. Alone with his cousin, he felt no shame in running his hand over his tired eyes briefly. "As well as could be expected."

"You haven't spoken much since my arrival."

"I've been busy," Madara replied, not unkindly. "Was there something specific you wanted to discuss?"

Mikoto set her glass aside before she pushed a strand of dark hair behind her ears. "Itachi tells me Hashirama has been quiet since his arrival earlier this week. Is that true?"

"As far as I'm aware, but I have all my eyes and ears on the ground."

"And nothing yet?"

"As soon as I know more, I will inform you," he told her.

Mikoto nodded her acceptance before she peered over at him once more. "And what of Sakura?"

Against his will, Madara felt his muscles stiffen. He hadn't spoken to her since the night in the living room, but her words still rang clearly in his mind as if she were there whispering them in his ear now. The memory did terrible things to his insides, but he forced his expression to remain neutral.

"What of her?" he asked.

"Does she know?"

"About Hashirama?" When Mikoto nodded, he shook his head. "No. Not yet.”

Just as Madara expected, a frown settled across his cousin's lips. "Are you going to?"

"If it becomes necessary. Right now, we’re not entirely sure the reason behind Hashirama’s return," he continued before Mikoto could voice her opinion. “I don’t want to concern Sakura until we’re certain his arrival has to do with her.”

His cousin exhaled silently before speaking. “If you’re sure this is best for her safety…”

"Last I recalled, I’ve been charged with her safety for the last several months and I believe I have done well enough in the meantime," Madara retorted, his tone a bit sharper than he intended.

His outburst was most uncharacteristic, a fact Mikoto noticed judging by the way her brow was now arched curiously. It was obvious there was a question on the tip of her tongue, but she held it as her features softened into a smile. "And no one is questioning that, Madara. I understand and respect the sacrifices you have made, but this is her life. Does she not deserve to know all the risks facing her?"

His older cousin obviously wasn't expecting a reply for she reached for her wine glass where she had left it on the coffee table and drained the last sip before she pushed herself to her feet.

"You'll let me know when you know something?" she asked.

It was an unnecessary question, but Madara nodded nonetheless before Mikoto let herself out of the office, softly closing the door behind her. Once she was gone, Madara let his frown show. He sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. Even without Mikoto’s pestering, he knew he needed to speak with Sakura. The only problem was he had been avoiding her for the last few days and he knew that she would have noticed by now. 

Pushing her out of his mind, Madara returned his attention to his computer and the accounts before him. Only his brain wouldn’t focus. It kept wandering back to Sakura until all concentration had left him. There was no point in denying it to himself. He knew he couldn’t return to his work until he spoke with her. It was going to be awkward and difficult, but it needed to happen.

With a glance at the clock, Madara realized it was already well into the afternoon, but he knew Sakura was still home. Ever since Hashirama's arrival, Madara had asked her escort for frequent updates on her movements. She hadn't been to work that day and as far as he knew, she had the day off.

With a loaded sigh, Madara saved his work before he shut down his computer and left his office. Mikoto and Fugaku were already gone by the time he made his way down the stairs into the main entrance, but a pair of voices echoed from elsewhere down the hall. Immediately he recognized Hina and Sakura, and he followed the sound until he reached the laundry room. 

There, he literally collided with Sakura as she hurried out into the hall. With her attention directed over her shoulder and into the laundry room, she didn’t notice him until he gripped her just below the shoulders to keep from crushing the dress cover she was carrying over her arms. 

“Thanks! Just let me know how-”

Her sentence cut off abruptly the moment he touched her. Her head whipped around and her eyes widened in start before they narrowed slightly. 

“Sorry,” she said, quickly stepping to the side and out of his reach before she returned her attention to Hina when she appeared in the doorway. “You’ll let me know?”

The older maid’s eyes flickered to Madara as she smiled in polite acknowledgement before her attention returned to Sakura. “I told you not to worry about it, dear.”

“But I’m going to, so please let me know later,” Sakura countered.

Madara had no idea what the women were speaking of but Hina merely smiled and nodded, a look he recognized when she was trying to placate someone. “Of course, dear.”

Satisfied, Sakura shot a brief but grateful smile at the woman before her green eyes glanced at him for a fraction of a second. “Excuse me,” she said before she stepped past him and swept down the hall, calling for the butler. 

It was obvious Sakura was busy. He could tell by the swiftness in which she moved. The way she purposely handed over her dress to a staff member and gave them specific directions not to wrinkle it before she began questioning the butler if her suitcase had been moved downstairs and how far away her escort was. Curious, Madara followed after her and watched silently as he tried to piece together what she was up to. Then it dawned on him. It was Thursday. But more importantly, tonight was the city hospital’s annual fundraiser dinner. Of course Sakura would be expected to attend. How could he have forgotten? It only made his conversation with her that much more important. It couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Sakura,” Madara said when the butler had stepped away.

Her attention was directed down at her phone, but she peered up at him briefly, a frown crossing her lips momentarily, before her gaze turned back down to her device. “What?”

Her tone was less than pleasant. Not that he could entirely blame her. He had avoided her for three days after he had felt her up in his living room. Still, he couldn't let her go now.

"May I have a moment?" he asked. 

She glanced up at him again, but her attention was stolen away as the butler appeared in the main doorway from outside. “Dr. Haruno, your escort has arrived.”

“Great, thank you.”

When she made to follow the gentleman out the door, Madara verbally pulled her back. “Sakura, I need to speak with you.”

There was a vaguely annoyed expression on her face when she turned back to him before she glanced down at the time on her phone. “Now? I have to go.” 

"It's important.”

Her expression could only be described as _‘are you serious?’_ before an exasperated scoff left her mouth. "I really don't have the time, Madara. And I'm not just saying that because I'm irritated with you. It's going to have to wait until later."

Madara could feel his annoyance rising to meet her own, but he forced himself to muster all the patience he could in that moment. "Please, Sakura." 

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Is my life currently in danger? In this very moment.”

That was a complicated answer, and he must have taken too long for her liking to respond for she shook her head. “I have to go.”

Then she was out the door and in her escort’s car before they both sped off his property. Madara watched the car disappear from the doorway, a frown settled deep in the corners of his mouth. He knew without a doubt Hashirama would be present at the fundraiser tonight. Madara would just have to be sure he got to Sakura before the oldest Senju brother could.

xx

Sakura stood in front of the full-length mirror, her eyes critical as she examined herself from head-to-toe. Her pink hair was curled into perfect waves that fell past her shoulders, her eyeliner winged into a perfect point and the dress she had chosen for the evening wrinkle and lint free. It was a formal gown made of sparkling silver that hugged her curves and fell to the floor in glimmering starlight. Sakura had never been very well-endowed in the chest area, but the strapless top made even her curves look delicious but still classy.

“Stop frowning. You look hot.”

Through the mirror, Sakura looked past her shoulder to where Ino was leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom, her arms loosely crossed over her chest. In that moment, she was Sakura’s exact opposite in a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. 

Sakura met her gaze for a moment before she gave herself one last look before turning away from the mirror. “Thanks again for helping. You know how much I suck at makeup.”

“My pleasure,” her best friend smiled. “You know how much I like playing Fairy Godmother, turning your raggedy surgeon-ass into Cinderella.”

“Ha ha,” Sakura laughed sarcastically.

It only made Ino’s smile widen. “Do you have everything you need? You need to leave in like five minutes to avoid being too overly late.”

That made Sakura’s eyes flicker to the clock before they widened. “What! Why didn’t you tell me I was already late?”

“Because none of the important people ever show up on time,” Ino said like it was obvious as she picked up Sakura’s phone to call an Uber. 

Sakura wanted to argue she wasn’t important but bit it back as she slipped into her heels and collected her purse. She double checked it for her ID, money and phone only to remember it was in her friend’s hand as the blonde held it out towards her. 

“Now remember, don’t drink too much, otherwise you’re going to have to pee and that’s annoying as shit in this dress.”

“Right,” Sakura nodded.

“And don’t touch your face. You’ll smudge my hard work.” 

“Okay.”

“Beauty is pain so don’t fidget too much.”

Sakura sighed in exasperation. “Okay, mom. I won’t.”

“You call me mom, but you’re doing it right now!”

Following Ino’s gesture, Sakura looked down to see she was pulling at the top of her dress as if afraid her breasts might pop out. Immediately she dropped her hands before a frown crossed her face as she wondered why she had chosen a strapless dress out of all things to wear tonight.

“You’ll be fine. You’re not going to accidentally flash anyone, I promise. The dress is designed to stay up,” Ino reassured her. Then she smirked. “Unless you wanna flash someone.”

Immediately Sakura thought of Madara and how he had touched her that night in the living room. The feel of his mouth on her breasts still made the space between her legs warm deliciously, but she forced that thought from her mind. She had more important things to think of tonight that had nothing to do with Madara. Like how to get these rich businessmen and women to donate their millions of dollars to her hospital. 

“Not funny,” Sakura glowered.

Ino only smirked again before she walked Sakura to the door of her condo. “Now go before you miss your cab.”

With another murmur of thanks to her best friend, Sakura headed down the hall to the elevator. Inside, she cancelled her Uber, knowing her escort was waiting for her just outside to take her to the event downtown. 

In the backseat of a shining, black Mercedes, Sakura stared down at her phone. There was a message from Naruto asking her where she was which she replied to before she pulled up the email with the specifics of tonight’s event and quickly scanned through it. Even a few blocks away, she could feel the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. These types of events weren’t exactly her area of expertise. Sure, she was good at making small talk and being social, but trying to get people to like her enough to give her millions of dollars wasn’t exactly a requirement to graduate from medical school.

_If only Madara was here._

The instant that thought crossed her mind, Sakura scowled. Sure, Madara was good with money and people, but he was manipulative. And apparently liked to feel people up in his living room only to ignore them for days afterwards. 

Shaking her head, Sakura forcefully pushed Madara out of her thoughts before she turned her gaze out the window. It was raining tonight. It was only a drizzle now but the streets were still damp from the rain that had passed through earlier that afternoon. It slowed the traffic, but eventually they arrived at the grand hotel the hospital had chosen to host the event at.

It was a towering building located in the heart of downtown. There were looming pillars outside with lit lanterns to accentuate the intricate architecture of the stone. Before the impressive building, men and women dressed in expensive suits and gowns were being greeted by hotel staff members with umbrellas to keep them dry from the elements. 

“I’ll be nearby. Contact me if you need me,” her escort said from the driver’s seat.

His voice pulled Sakura’s attention from the window. She met his gaze in the rearview mirror before she flashed the man a grateful smile. He was a young kid, only twenty-five or so, but his eyes were old like he had seen and done things in his short lifetime. Still, he was always so kind to her.

“Thank you, Asao.” 

He merely inclined his head before he pulled up to the curb. As soon as the vehicle was stopped, a hotel staff member opened her door for her and held an umbrella over her head as they escorted her up the stairs and under the cover of the stone entrance.

Inside, a well-dressed bouncer asked for her name and ID. Only once they found her on the list was she allowed to finally venture further inside to where the drinking, entertainment and smooth politics were taking place. Sakura’s first impression was that the hospital had decidedly spent more money this year than the last. Her second was that she was definitely late. The ballroom was already filled with her fellow surgeons and businessmen with their wives. They chatted around standing tables covered in silky, red tablecloths that matched the crimson drapes on the walls. Nearby, an orchestra was playing an uplifting, but soft melody that helped ease the silence should there be a lull in conversation. Not that there likely would be with how many people were packed into the room.

Pushing herself up onto her toes, Sakura was just scanning the crowd for any familiar faces when someone slipped their arm around her waist and pulled her against their body. “There you are! I was wondering if you were ever going to make it.”

Jerking her head up, Sakura relaxed when she recognized Naruto. He held a drink in the hand not holding her around the middle and she quickly wiggled out of his grip before he could accidentally spill the drink on her. “Sorry, I didn’t know Ino was planning to take three hours to do my makeup.”

“Ino did your makeup?” he asked. When she nodded, he seemed to study her a little closer. “She did a good job.”

“I would hope so. That’s her job.”

Naruto’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Oh yeah. I always forget she decided to drop out of law school.”

“That was like nine years ago, Naruto.”

He seemed to think a moment before he shrugged and took a drink from his glass. Sakura got the impression it wasn’t his first one, but she merely snagged a flute of champagne from a passing waiter before she gestured towards the crowd of people. “So, who do we have tonight?”

“I saw at least Akimichi Industries and someone from Aburame Investments,” he told her. “I hear they’re both interested in expanding their brands within the hospital, so they’ll definitely be worth pestering tonight.”

“Yeah, but if you know that then I’m sure everyone else does,” Sakura murmured over the rim of her glass as she eyed the people around them. “It’s going to be a fight of the departments heads to get their name on those checks.”

As those words left her mouth, Naruto’s eyes seemed to lock on something across the room before an odd but devious look settled on his expression. “Then I guess we’ll just have to focus on the ‘underdogs’ while everyone else is distracted.”

Curious, Sakura followed his gaze to find a man she recognized. His name was Gaara. He was the son and junior CEO of Sands Incorporated, the company that sold ultrasounds machines to the hospital. Naruto had sparked an unexpected friendship with the man last year while his older brother had been in the hospital after Sakura had saved his life.

A matching smirk crossed her face as her eyes slid back to her blond friend. “May the best surgeon win.”

Naruto opened his mouth to retort, but Sakura was already walking away, weaving her way through the crowd to where Gaara was standing. Of course, Naruto’s legs were longer, and his steps unhindered by high heels, and he easily caught up just as they reached their target. Gaara was already engaged in conversation, but his eyes flickered towards them as they approached. The change in his expression was minimal, but it brightened just enough to show he was relieved to have a change of scenery from his current discussion, and he quickly excused himself to greet them.

“Dr. Haruno, Dr. Uzumaki,” he said friendly. “I was hoping I might see you here tonight.”

Sakura held her hand out in greeting before Naruto could react. “You already know you can just call me Sakura, Gaara. How are you doing? How’s Kankuro?”

“My brother is doing very well,” Gaara said, real warmth entering his voice. “He’s fully healed from his accident, thanks to you.”

“I only repaired the damage. His physical therapist did the rest.”

“Even so, I can’t thank you enough,” he said gratefully before he turned to Naruto.

For a little while, the trio spoke uninterrupted. Surgeons and other guests slipped around them mostly unnoticed until Gaara was eventually pulled away into another conversation with someone Sakura didn’t recognize. She excused herself politely, parting ways with Naruto to make her way towards the open bar. There, she requested a simple flute of champagne. Something to relax her without making her tongue too loose.

As she waited, Sakura scanned the crowd of attendees without purpose only to smile her thanks at the bartender when he set her drink down on the counter. She had barely taken a single sip before she heard her name.

“Sakura, I was wondering if you would be here tonight.”

Turning around, she blinked in surprise at finding none other than Kakashi. He was dressed handsomely in a suit and tie. He had one hand in his pocket and the other loosely holding a few fingers of whiskey, his wild silver hair only mostly tamed.

At just the sight of him, Sakura was immediately transported back to that terrifying night months ago; the night she had nearly stabbed him with a scalpel out of fear after she had brought Madara in wounded with a gunshot wound to his little clinic. Sudden tension coiled within her but she forced a friendly smile onto her face. “Kakashi, it’s been awhile. What are you doing here?”

“You know me. Never one to miss a party with free drinks,” he winked before he sipped his liquor.

His easy demeanor relaxed the worst of her nerves, but she still couldn’t shake the knowledge that he knew _something_ , even if he didn’t quite know what he had seen. “You always were a cheap date,” she countered playfully.

“I don’t recall you complaining about it before.”

“And I’m not complaining now. Simply stating a fact,” she smiled. Then she looked him up and down, taking in his clean-shaven face and freshly-pressed suit. “You look good. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit. I didn’t think you knew how to clean up so nicely.”

“I take offence to that,” Kakashi said with a half-hearted frown. “Not my fault all you ever invited me to was the bar after a twelve-hour shift.”

“Didn’t I invite you to my birthday dinner once?”

“Yes, but when I got there, you were already gone.”

“Because you showed up four hours late,” Sakura laughed, her voice pitching higher in playful exasperation.

A thoughtful look crossed Kakashi’s face before it cleared. “Oh yeah.”

A laugh bubbled out of her mouth at that and the rest of her tension fell away when their conversation continued as smoothly as it used to. With her grin still lingering on her lips, she sipped her champagne before she pointed her flute at him. “You going to tell me what you’re doing here? We both know you hate parties.”

“What’re you talking about? Socializing with complete strangers is my favorite pastime.”

Sakura shot him a look. “Kakashi.”

He kept up his façade for a second more before he sighed. “Fine, I was hoping to steal a sponsorship or two tonight. One of my nurses was diagnosed with breast cancer a month ago and I’ve been giving her a little extra cash to help with treatments, but it’s not enough.”

Whatever remaining amusement Sakura had melted away immediately. “Oh man,” she murmured barely loud enough to be heard over the numerous conversations throughout the room.

That was something so typical of Kakashi to do. To take money away from himself and his own clinic to support someone else in need. Both sadness and affection for the man settled in her chest. She could still recall all the times Kakashi had stayed late at the hospital to help her out, both when she did and didn’t need him to. He really hadn’t changed.

Sakura released a heavy sigh before a soft smile crossed her face. “I promise I won’t tell anyone your evil plans,” she said teasingly. Then she scanned the crowd until her eyes landed on the person she was looking for. “You see that man over there? His name is Gaara. He’s a little frosty around the edges, but he’s a nice guy. His favorite things in the world are his siblings and his dog. If you play your cards right, I’m sure you can get something out of him.”

After following her gaze, Kakashi turned back to her with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Sakura.”

The genuine sincerity in his tone warmed her again and she matched his smile. Only for it to shatter like glass upon his next words:

“And how are you doing? Are you safe?”

It was the very same question he had asked her the night of the shooting. She knew it wasn’t a coincidence. That he knew exactly what he was asking. Ice filled her veins, but she forced an easy smile onto her face. “I’m completely fine.”

And he believed her.

They parted ways after that. Sakura slipped through the groups of people scattered around the grand room. She sipped from her champagne delicately as she listened to the conversations around her. Almost every surgeon was laying on the charm as they fought to win the sympathy of the corporate leaders. Sakura knew she should join in to help raise money for her department, but her mind was still a million miles away. Her conversation with Kakashi had blindsided her, and though she knew her old coworker was unaware of the world she had been dragged into, it only reinforced the fact that she was having to lie to everyone she knew and loved.

Downing the rest of her champagne, Sakura was about to head back to the bar to grab another, _stronger_ drink when her gaze landed on another woman some tables away. Their eyes met at the same instant, their expressions sharing mirrored looks of pleasant surprise. Even from across a crowded room like this and out of her doctor’s coat, Sakura would recognize Tsunade, the woman who had mentored her through her first five years of internship and residency.

Without hesitation, Sakura crossed the room as Tsunade quickly excused herself out of her conversation to greet her. “Sakura, it’s been far too long.”

“It’s so good to see you,” she said, exchanging a brief hug with the older woman.

Her old mentor was wearing a deep forest green dress that emphasized her curves and large bust. Her blonde hair was falling over her broad shoulders, making her appear far more feminine than Sakura had ever seen her, but no less powerful.

At the same time, Tsunade looked her up and down once. “You look better than the last time I saw you.”

“That’s because you’re no longer running me ragged around the hospital at three in the morning,” Sakura returned cheekily.

“Oh, please,” she waved her off. “We both know that when a new trauma came in, you were the first resident down to the ER to see if it was an interesting case.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right.”

They shared a laugh before Tsunade sipped from the porcelain cup in her hands. Sakura didn’t doubt it was sake. She could recall the dozens of times they had sat in Tsunade’s office sharing a bottle after a rougher shift.

“So, I hear you’re the new trauma surgeon at the city hospital. I’m proud of you. My hard work really paid off.”

Tsunade’s humor had always been as dry as her favorite sake and the familiarity of it caused a smile to spread across Sakura’s face. “Yes, I owe everything I have to you,” she said just as dryly.

A hint of a smirk crossed Tsunade’s face, but they were interrupted before Sakura could reply by none other than the man that had bought her coffee last week. His name was Hashirama, if she recalled correctly. He wore a light brown suit that did wonders to his chocolate-colored irises and he handed Tsunade a fresh cup of sake before he turned those kind eyes on her. “Well this is a pleasant surprise. It’s nice to see you again, Sakura. Or do you prefer Dr. Haruno?”

“Sakura is fine,” she said, holding her hand out in greeting. “It’s nice to see you again, Hashirama. How are you doing?”

He opened his mouth but Tsunade spoke before he could reply, her hazel eyes flickering between them. “You two have met?”

“Do you remember the malpractice lawsuit I was investigating a few weeks ago?”

“I hope you’re not telling me you’re investigating my favorite student,” Tsunade said, her tone playful but also mildly threatening.

Sakura shot her old mentor a flat look while Hashirama chuckled, the sound coming from deep in his chest. “Fortunately, no. But we spoke over coffee while she kindly helped direct me to the Chief’s office.”

“It was nothing,” Sakura said politely. Then it was her turn to glance between them. “How do you two know each other?”

“Hashirama is my older cousin,” Tsunade told her.

“And the reason for her entering the medical field,” he quipped, causing the blonde woman to shoot him a look.

“Hardly. I believe you originally suggested I go into business.”

“A decidedly terrible idea, in hindsight,” Hashirama murmured, causing Sakura to laugh. “Your intelligence is much better utilized in the medical field.”

“That it is. Tsunade’s mentoring shaped me into the surgeon I am today,” Sakura said sincerely.

Tsunade only snorted. “Well I don’t train idiots.”

It didn’t sound like it, but Sakura heard the compliment in her old mentor’s abrasive words and she warmed with old affection. “Of all the places in the world, I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight. As I recall, you hate parties.”

“Oh no, I do, but as it stands, I’m required to attend as a sponsor,” Tsunade said.

“You’re a sponsor?” Sakura repeated.

“I’m here as a representative for my family’s foundation.”

That made Sakura blink in surprise. “What foundation? You never told me you had a foundation.”

“I tend to keep that information private until the opportune moment,” Tsunade said. Then she pointed at Sakura with the hand holding her cup of sake. “And don’t think that just because you’re my former student I’ll play favorites and just give you money.”

“But what if I deserve it?”

“That still remains to be seen.”

Tsunade hid her smirk behind her sake cup, but Sakura still saw it. She couldn't help but release a true, honest laugh but it faded when a flicker of something over Hashirama's shoulder caught her attention. Her gaze automatically followed the movement, only for every muscle in her body to freeze. For across the room, making their way towards her in smooth, powerful strides was none other than Madara.

The rest of the room fell away. Sakura forgot she was in conversation with the people next to her. She lost her awareness of presence, her voice and her train of thought. Only one question echoed in her mind. _What was he doing here?_

Stunned, Sakura could only watch as Madara smoothly slipped around the other attendees until he finally reached her. When she had last seen him that morning, he had been dressed in slacks and a button up shirt, but there had been an air of exhaustion and weariness she wasn’t used to seeing. There was none of that now. He looked freshly showered and shaven, his black suit perfectly pressed over his crimson shirt and tie.

His onyx eyes rested on her only a moment before they turned to Tsunade and Hashirama. “Good evening. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“What are you doing here?” Sakura asked. It was an honest question but there was an edge of steel thinly veiled within her tone. She didn’t care if her old mentor or Hashirama heard it.

She knew at the very least Madara had picked up on it, but his expression was calm and collected as it always was, which only succeeded in frustrating her more. “I’m here for the event. I always attend fundraisers and charities for the city,” he said smoothly.

“It’s been a while, Madara,” Hashirama said, finally drawing Sakura’s gaze away from the man beside her.

Madara inclined his head. “Yes, it has. Good evening, Hashirama.”

In an instant, a sinking feeling began to grow within Sakura. It didn’t escape her notice that neither of them made any attempt to shake hands and there was a tension in the air; barely noticeable but yet razor sharp.

Her eyes flickered between the pair. “You two know each other?”

“Yes, we are well acquainted,” Madara told her. “Senju Hashirama is the older brother of Tobirama.”

And just like that, the floor beneath Sakura seemed to crack and splinter into spiderweb-like fractures before shattering completely. She could only stare at the brown-haired man standing across from her, just now realizing how similar in shape his eyes and mouth were. How just a simple quirk in the corner of his lips could turn that kind smile into something just as cruel and malicious as Tobirama’s.

Sakura wondered how she could feel so in danger in such a crowded place, but as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes, she could suddenly see. She could see the once-invisible threads of the mafia slowly becoming clearer and clearer. She had always thought the Underground was a shadowy, dangerous criminal world tucked away in the darkest corner of the city. Now, it was utterly unmistakable that it was much more than that.

Their influence was a vast series of networks that ran under the city like veins under the skin. The mafia was the life blood, so deeply intertwined like a tumor wrapped around vessels within the body. They provided money, prestige, power and protection. They were the puppet masters of politicians, a shadow government. They controlled every movement, every decision. There wasn't a corner that their influence didn't reach. Not even her hospital.

Sakura didn’t realize her knees had begun to go weak until Madara placed a supportive hand to the small of her back. His touch made her eyes shift up to his. Although he didn’t say it, she could see the question of if she was alright in his gaze. She didn’t know how to answer that and she quickly looked away only for her eyes to settle on Tsunade.

She was Hashirama’s cousin, which would make her Tobirama’s as well. She was involved too. Her very mentor. Sakura wondered just how long she had been on the mafia’s radar. Had her skill and connection to Tsunade led to her current circumstances?

Sakura didn’t know. She had more questions than she had answers, but she couldn’t ask any of them now. Not with her trust so completely shattered. Hashirama had seemed like a kind stranger, but Tsunade had been a dependable teacher and someone Sakura considered a good friend. She had never felt more betrayed in her life.

A deep glare sharpened Sakura’s emerald eyes into shards of glass before she spun on her heels and strode through the crowd. She didn’t know where she was going. All she knew was she needed to leave, but before she could reach the entrance, someone caught up with her.

“Sakura, wait.”

She had expected Madara. What she hadn’t anticipated was for Tsunade to follow her. It only made Sakura’s rage grow and she whipped back around to spit, “What did you tell them about me?”

Tsunade drew to a stop before her, her sake cup now gone. “Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you,” she hissed.

Her reply only made Tsunade sigh softly. “My family is complicated, Sakura. Yes, the Senju are mafia, but I stepped away years ago.”

“The only way out of the mafia is death.”

“Usually yes, but as a doctor and healer I can’t condone violence-”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that?” Sakura interrupted sharply. “This is the Senju we’re talking about. Tobirama, your very cousin, _tortured_ me.”

That made Tsunade go silent. Around them, the party continued on, the surgeons and company executives oblivious to their conversation and the mafia members within the room. Her old mentor stared at her a long moment before she glanced over her shoulder. Sakura followed her gaze to see Madara and Hashirama were making their way towards them, but they were still too far away to hear their conversation.

“I am so terribly sorry you were dragged into this, Sakura. I truly am,” Tsunade said, her tone sincere. “But you have to believe me. I stay out of my family’s politics. I don’t get involved.”

“Did you know?” Sakura asked. “Did you know that Tobirama was targeting me?”

“No, I didn’t know until this moment,” Tsunade shook her head. When Sakura opened her mouth, her mentor quickly continued, “Please believe me, Sakura. I swear on all our past history, I didn’t. But I do know Tobirama well enough to tell you that if he has his sights on you, he won’t let you go.”

Even with her dire warning, the sharpest edges of Sakura’s anger melted away. She still didn’t understand Tsunade’s relationship with her cousins, but she got the feeling her old mentor was telling the truth. That feeling didn’t last long though when Hashirama and Madara finally reached them. There was a small smirk curling in the corner of Hashirama’s mouth that reminded Sakura disturbingly of his brother. Something cold and frightening curled in her stomach, but she stood her ground.

“I’m sorry to see you leave the party so soon. I was looking forward to us speaking a little longer,” Hashirama said. His tone was friendly but Sakura knew it was anything but. “Tobirama asked me to tell you he sends his regards.”

“Tell Tobirama if he wants to threaten me, he can do it to my face. I’m not interested in messenger boys,” Sakura spat back.

In hindsight, it likely wasn’t the smartest thing to say, but she met Hashirama’s gaze evenly. His smile merely widened, but there was a warning look on Tsunade’s face that was telling her to tread lightly. Very lightly.

Sakura held Hashirama’s gaze for a moment longer before she turned away and made for the exit again. This time, Madara fell into step beside her. He didn’t reach for her or touch her in anyway, but she knew that his presence made it abundantly clear that she was under his protection and the protection of the entire Uchiha family.

In that moment, Sakura knew her fate was sealed. There would be no going back. She would never be free from the mafia.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay you guys. I only just got my computer back this past week, but hopefully things will be a more frequent moving forward.
> 
> Thank you to those of you who have stayed with me by commenting. Your reviews have been so kind.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Chapter Twelve_ **

Sakura was quiet. Too quiet.

From inside the back of the town car, Madara could see the waves of emotion rolling off of her. Anger, frustration, fear and something else he couldn’t quite name. She sat utterly still, her knees pressed together and her hands folded over each other in a tight grip. She hadn’t spoken or even looked at him since leaving the fundraiser. Instead, her gaze remained directed out the window as the lights from the streets outside waxed and waned against her face.

More than anything Madara wanted to break the tension that filled the space between them. Both Izuna and Mikoto had been right that he should have told her days ago about Hashirama. He knew he needed to apologize. He _wanted_ to apologize, but the words stuck to the back of his throat like tar. Instead, the car was filled with deafening silence, only broken by rubber over wet road as Madara’s driver took them home.

An eternity passed before the familiar gates surrounding his property came into view. The guards allowed them entry immediately and the car rounded the drive until they stopped before the steps that led up to the main entrance. A staff member moved to greet them, but before he could reach the door, Sakura was pushing it open. She slipped out of the car without waiting for help before she swept up the stairs. It seemed Madara’s assumptions had been correct. She was angry. Very angry.

Bracing himself, Madara took one deep breath before he followed her. She was already at the base of the grand stairs by the time he slipped out of the rain and into his home. He called for her gently as the butler closed the door behind him. “Sakura.”

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” she said without a backwards glance. Her tone was as sharp as her scalpel.

He was content to let her go for now, but as soon as she reached the first step, she stopped and spun around to face him, one hand clutching the banister in a white-knuckled grip and the other pointing a finger accusingly at him. “You knew. You knew Tobirama had an older brother and you didn’t think it was important enough to tell me.”

Madara didn’t immediately reply. Instead, his gaze flickered towards his staff where they stood obediently on the edge of the room. They understood his silent dismissal and he waited until their footsteps had faded before he returned his attention to Sakura.

“I wanted to,” he said, coming to a stop some paces away from her. With her heels and the single stair giving her extra height, he had to tilt his head to look up at her. “I tried to this afternoon.”

His answer only made her eyes narrow. With her irises rimmed in kohl, they were darker than they had ever been, like a forest under a layer of mist. Mesmerizing, but shrouding what lurked below. “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare turn this around on me. You waited until the last possible moment to approach me and you know it.”

“I wasn’t trying to divert the blame,” he assured her quietly.

She barely seemed to hear him. “You should have told me sooner. This is _my_ life, Madara. You don’t get to pull the strings like some puppet master. Not with me.”

With her frustration still palpable in the air, Madara chose his words carefully. He may have literally dragged her through the door into his world, but he had sacrificed time and effort these past months to keep her safe and comfortable. Her insinuations of manipulation rubbed him the wrong way.

“That was never my intention,” he said evenly.

“Then why?”

Taking a deep breath, Madara tried not to match her temper. He must have taken too long to respond for Sakura scoffed. “After everything you’ve put me through, you still can’t do me the courtesy of being honest.” Then she turned and marched up the stairs.

Madara tried to hold himself in check, but his patience had reached its end. Taking the steps two at a time, he caught her on the landing and grabbed her wrist before she could storm off to her bedroom. Immediately Sakura spun to glare up at him, but he spoke before she could open her mouth.

“You want the truth?” he asked harshly. “Then come with me.”

Madara didn’t wait for her to respond. Releasing her wrist, he curled his hand around the small of her back before he dragged her in the opposite direction from her bedroom until they reached another staircase. Sakura fought him, but his strength far outmatched hers. He brought her to the third floor – the one place he had always warned her not to wander – before he steered her past his bedroom and down the long hallway until they reached the last door at the end. His private study.

After fishing his keys out of his pocket, Madara unlocked the door and ushered Sakura inside. The instant he closed the door behind them, he could feel her gaze burning a hole through him, but he didn’t spare her a glance. Instead, he made a beeline to his desk. Without bothering to sit, he leaned over to start up his laptop.

“What is this?” Sakura demanded.

“This is my private office,” Madara told her without looking up. “I’ve brought you here to ‘be honest’ and show you what you want to know. I hadn’t told you about Hashirama because he’s been out of the country for over five years. He only returned a week ago.”

The room was silent except for the clicking of the mousepad as Madara dug through his files until he found the picture of his warehouse where his men had been killed; before Shisui and Itachi had scrubbed it. If Sakura wanted the truth, he would show it to her. All of it. Including the dark and the dirty.

“We learned of his arrival when he murdered half a dozen of my men.”

Enlarging the picture, Madara turned his computer around for Sakura to see. She was still standing near the door eyeing him with a mix of ire and hesitation, but she slowly approached to take a look. Her expression was unreadable as she took in the graphic image but he saw the way she swallowed thickly before she looked away.

“Why is he back?” she asked after a moment, her gaze flickering to him.

When she made an effort to keep her gaze away from his computer, Madara closed the screen before he straightened from his hunched position and crossed his arms over his chest. “I wasn’t entirely certain until tonight, but having Hashirama approach you at the fundraiser confirmed my suspicions that it had something to do with you. He’s always been fiercely protective of Tobirama.”

“And me shooting Tobirama caught his interest,” she finished quietly. She ran a stressed hand over her curls. “And now they’re in my hospital.”

“The Senju have always been in your hospital.”

That caused her gaze to quickly dart back up to his. “What do you mean they’ve always been in my hospital?”

“They own a share,” he informed her. “Just as I do.”

Her eyes widened. “How is that possible?”

“The hospital is more complicated than my other assets,” Madara explained. “It’s neutral territory. A shared service. Many of us have a stake in it. We all desire the best care should we need it.”

“How much…” she began slowly as if afraid of the answer her question might bring. “How much of a share do you own?”

“Twenty-eight percent.”

“And the Senju?"

That question made a quiet but frustrated sigh fall from his lips. "After tonight, I suspect they’ll gain some traction with the surgeons there and their numbers will begin to rival mine."

A sharp exhale passed between Sakura’s lips and her eyes fell downcast as her thoughts rolled through her head like thundering clouds. It was a full minute before she shook her head. “Twenty-eight percent is high, but not that high. Who else owns it?”

“Private companies, shareholders, parts of the government–”

“A government that you control,” she interrupted.

Madara frowned. “I don’t control the government.”

The look she shot him could only be described as incredulous. “Are you really going to try and make me believe you don’t have your hands inside the pockets of politicians?”

He didn’t particularly care for her tone or word choice and the grip he had on his biceps tightened minutely, but he didn’t refute her claim. Mostly because it was true.

“Just how far does your influence spread?” she pressed. “How much of the city is under your control?"

A soft sigh passed between his lips. “It’s hard to put it into an exact number, but I can tell you it is a sizable portion."

“What part?” she insisted. There was a resolute look on her face as she crossed her arms to match his posture. “The lawyers, the banks?"

"And the shipping yards, the courts, and the police force,” Madara added without arrogance.

Her stern expression gave way to horror. “The police force?” she repeated. When he nodded, her arms loosened to fall to her sides. “This city really belongs to you, doesn’t it?” she murmured. But there was a strange tone in her voice. Like she was oddly revolted and awed at the same time.

“Only a percentage,” Madara corrected quietly. “I don’t have complete control over any single thing. Just as the Senju do not. I only manage some factions. I have more power and authority in certain areas and regions within the city, but nothing is one hundred percent mine.”

“And what is yours?” she asked, her voice taking on a dry tone.

“Some of the East. And everything South of Downtown,” he told her. “The Senju control much of the North. That’s how Tobirama was able to grab you the night of your abduction. You were in his territory.”

Sakura let out a soft, sarcastic laugh as she rubbed her shoulder. There was dry humor in her expression, like she found his words ironic rather than funny. “I always thought it was a joke; of gangs owning territory and having control over parts of the city.”

Then her demeanor changed. Her presence grew sharper and colder. Madara could see the internal struggle within her. The fear and the anger at her situation. In that moment, she looked as though the entire weight of the world rested on her shoulders and it occurred to him then that it likely did. She had only seen glimpses into his world before and now he was opening the curtain just a little wider. Everything she thought she knew was turning to ash before her eyes.

“How did this happen?” Sakura eventually asked, dropping her arm back to her side. Her voice was so quiet he wasn’t sure if she was asking him or herself. “How did everything get to this point?”

Then her focus zeroed in on him and like a switch being flipped, her expression hardened.

“How did you come across me?” she demanded, her voice suddenly steely. “Why did you choose me? Did you have me help Shisui because of my connection to Tsunade; that I could somehow give you leverage against the Senju?”

Madara was quick to shake his head as he uncrossed his arms. “No, I had no knowledge that your former teacher was related to Hashirama or Tobirama before tonight.”

“Then why me?”

He was quiet for a long moment. It wasn’t really a secret, but the truth revealed a vulnerability he wasn’t used to sharing. A war waged within him. Had it been anyone else, he would have lied. Made up something less exposing, but this was Sakura. He owed her some truths.

“Because of Sasuke.”

Her brows furrowed. “Sasuke? Who is Sasuke–?” Then her confusion cleared. “I was friends with a Sasuke in high school… _Uchiha_ Sasuke. He told you I was a trauma surgeon, didn’t he?”

Madara nodded. “Yes.”

Her gaze fell to the floor as she shook her head slowly, an annoyed look falling across her face. “He was always sticking his nose in other people’s business,” she said exasperatedly. Then her expression softened as she met his gaze hesitantly, as if afraid of what she was about to say. “In the time I’ve been with you, he hasn’t been around. He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“He was killed nine months ago by Tobirama’s men,” Madara said quietly, that familiar pang of grief rippling through his chest. Even months later, he could still hear Mikoto’s screams as she learned her youngest child had been murdered. It was a sound he would never forget.

“Fuck,” Sakura cursed in a whisper. Then again, only louder, “Fuck!” She paced the walkway between the door and his desk, one hand clasping the skirt of her dress to allow her easy movement while the other raked through her hair, unconcerned with mussing her curls. “This is so much worse than I thought. You should have told me about Hashirama before!”

“I know and I–”

“He’s been back longer than a week.”

Immediately Madara stilled. A pregnant pause passed between them as ice slid down his spine. He studied Sakura with an intense stare. “You met him before tonight,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He could read it in her face.

Sakura nodded reluctantly, almost as if she regretted saying anything at all. “Nearly two weeks ago.”

“What did he want?”

“Nothing,” she said defensively. “He said he was there to talk to the Chief of Surgery so I took him to his office.”

“You were _alone_ with him?” Madara asked sharply.

Immediately Sakura snapped her mouth shut, but the damage was already done. She looked like she wanted to disappear as he rounded the desk to stand in front of her, but she bravely held her ground.

“You’re certain that was all?” Madara pressed sternly. “He didn’t say anything else?”

This time, she did drop her gaze, but she shook her head. “No.”

She was obviously lying, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get it out of her tonight. She was exhausted and angry. At him, at Hashirama, at the world.

And she wasn’t the only one. Madara was livid Hashirama had approached her, but even more so that he had the audacity to threaten her in front of him. Madara was upset at himself for not speaking to Sakura sooner and irritated with her that she had unintentionally put herself in harm’s way.

Madara drew a deep, calming breath and reigned in his emotions tightly before he spoke again. “I’ve already informed Izuna of the situation tonight. I’ll contact Itachi and Shisui as well and see if we can start a tail on Hashirama and Tobirama, but you need to make the decision if you want to continue to work.”

With Sakura’s heels giving her extra height, she stood only a few inches shorter than him now and he barely had to dip his chin to see her eyes harden again as she scowled at him. “I’ve already told you I’m not giving up my job, Madara.”

“Yes, but this is your life, Sakura,” he pressured.

“It is. So, I’m going to make my own decisions about it.”

He swore this woman’s sole purpose was to test his patience. She seemed to get a kick out of challenging him and he resisted the urge to growl. “You’re a stubborn woman.”

“And you’re an insufferable man!”

“My family and I have protected you–”

“You and your family put me in this position!”

That growing fire in Madara’s chest roared to new levels. “How many times must I apologize for that?”

“When have you ever apologized for it!” she asked incredulously. When he didn’t immediately rebuff her claim, she utilized the moment to strike, her hands flying up in agitation. “I was dragged down onto the cold, hard concrete of this life and I’ve learned to live with it, but don’t you dare try to influence my decisions! And don’t you _ever_ use my safety as your leverage.”

In that moment, Sakura looked like the epitome of a mafia wife. With her hard, unwavering eyes and a backbone stronger than steel, she had never been more ferocious. Heat spread through his midsection and it took him a moment to realize it wasn’t wrath pooling in his veins. It was excitement.

But Sakura wasn’t done yet.

“You think just because I live under your roof, you can do whatever you want. I’m not one of your casual whores, Madara, and I refuse to be treated as such!” she snapped, losing her composure. He knew she was talking about that night in the living room, but she continued before he could defend himself. “So, I’m done. I’m leaving tonight. With or without one of your damn escorts.”

Madara grabbed Sakura before she could walk away. He pinned her against him until her breasts were pressed flush to his chest. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said, deadly calm.

She was practically thrumming in his arms, her ribs rapidly expanding on every inhale with the exertion of her outburst, but she didn’t back down. There was a challenge in her eyes, fierce and wild and determined. “Watch me.”

Madara didn’t even remember moving. All he knew was they were glaring daggers at one another in one moment and the next, their mouths were sealed together in a bruising kiss.

Sakura attacked him with teeth and tongue as she gripped his suit, wrinkling the material as she jerked him closer. With one arm anchored around her waist, Madara tangled his fingers into her hair, caging her against him. He bit her lower lip hard enough to sting before his tongue soothed the pain. It had already been a week since he last tasted her and he felt like a starved man as he swallowed every little noise that rose up in her throat.

“Don’t ever walk away from me,” Madara said between kisses, his voice heavy with authority.

“I’ll do what I damn well please,” she bit back. Still, her grip remained firm as her fingers tightened on his collar.

A growl ripped out of his throat.

Their touch was violent. Sakura tore his suit jacket down his arms, revealing his shoulder holster and the Heckler and Koch handgun strapped to it. Sakura seemed unconcerned about it. She merely unbuttoned his waistcoat and yanked his shirt out of his pants before her hands snaked under the hem to sink her nails into his stomach.

A heated groan rumbled from deep in Madara’s chest. His hands weren’t idle either. He searched her gown until he found the zipper camouflaged within the folds before he jerked it down. The fragile piece broke off its track, but he didn’t care. He merely slipped his hand inside, his fingers digging into the delicate skin at her ribs hard enough to bruise. Sakura arched into his touch. Fisting her soft curls, Madara wrenched her head back to nip a trail down her throat until he found that sensitive spot on her pulse point he had discovered a week ago. He sunk his teeth into it, tearing a sharp cry from her. The sound caused desire to flare between Madara’s legs rapidly and he did it again before he pressed an open-mouth kiss to the spot.

“Fuck, Madara.”

His name in that tone did dangerous things to his ego. Arousal curled into the pit of his stomach like a predator eager to pounce. He wanted to devour her and he would. There would be no escape tonight.

Dragging his mouth down her skin, Madara was about to bite another mark into her collarbone when Sakura’s hand fisted his tie. She used it as leverage to tug his face back to hers to kiss him hungrily. Her tongue twisted with his, but he quickly pulled away with a snarl when she tried to dominate him. That wouldn’t do.

Spinning them around, Madara ushered Sakura towards his desk. With one hand, he pushed his laptop aside before he shoved her face-first down onto the solid oak until she was bent over defenselessly and temptingly vulnerable. Now, this was how he preferred her.

“Hey! God dammit,” Sakura cursed. She struggled against his hold, but he effortlessly pinned her in place with an unyielding hand between her shoulder blades before he hiked the skirt of her dress up until she was exposed to him.

To his great pleasure, her firm ass was wrapped in black, lace panties, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was the weapon holster strapped to her upper leg. On her inner thigh was a loaded Glock. He stilled as he stared at it for one second and then another. Glocks were Shisui’s specialty and appreciation for his nephew washed through him. It pleased him to no end his family took Sakura’s safety into their hands without his direction.

Then Madara lifted his gaze to meet Sakura’s. She was glaring at him over her shoulder. “What? Did you think I couldn’t defend myself?”

A new wave of hunger settled heavily in the pit of his stomach at the thought of her carrying that all night. “On the contrary,” he told her fervently.

Still firmly pinning her down, he used the toe of his shoe to nudge her heels apart until he could reach between her legs and unfasten the straps securing her weapon in place. He set it on top of his laptop out of the way before he traced his fingers up the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. Immediately Sakura fought again, but his grip was unmovable. All she could do was clutch the edge of his desk as he had his way with her.

“Let me up,” Sakura demanded.

Madara merely chuckled as he palmed her ass, his fingers digging into her flesh. “No, I don’t think I will. You’re right that you’re not a casual whore, Sakura,” he said, his tone almost factual. Then it darkened. “You’re so much more to me than that and I’m going to make sure you are fully aware of it before we leave here tonight.”

A sound of irritation came from her. She placed her hands flat against the desk to heave herself up only for the fight to abruptly fall out of her when Madara roughly pressed his fingers against her covered center. A wide smirk crossed his face when a gasp ripped from her lips and she arched her back as she leaned into his touch. Even through the material of her panties, he could feel her wetness and he wasted no time pushing them aside to trace her folds. They were silky and utterly dripping with her arousal.

Without hesitation, he slipped two fingers into her core. Immediately her inner walls clamped down on him and he bit back a grunt. She was so responsive; it was going to feel mind-blowing.

“Ah, shit,” Sakura moaned. But her sounds were muffled as she buried her face into her arms.

Madara didn’t quite like that. Releasing her upper body, he fisted her hair and turned her face to the side until he could lean over to murmur in her ear, “You're so wet already. Tell me, how many times have you touched yourself under my roof while thinking about me?”

Defiantly, Sakura clamped her mouth shut. She tried to turn away from him, but the fingers in her hair kept her firmly in place. There was no place to hide.

“Answer me,” Madara ordered.

Something between an irritated groan and a desperate cry escaped her lips. When she still hesitated, he curled his fingers inside her until she squirmed and pushed her hips back to meet him. She tried to increase the friction, but the more she fought, the slower he moved until eventually she collapsed against the desk. A defeated sigh heaved between her lips before she finally met his gaze.

“…dozens of times.”

A wicked smirk stretched across Madara’s lips before he sealed his mouth to hers again in a hungry kiss. His fingers resumed their rhythm within her core and he straightened again to listen to every moan that fell from her.

Even his most vivid fantasies hadn’t prepared Madara for the reality of what her warm heat would feel like squeezing and rippling around him. Her essence was already dripping down her inner thighs, soaking his hand and her panties.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

Withdrawing his fingers, Madara didn’t bother stepping out of his slacks. He unbuttoned the front and drew his zipper down before he finally freed his length from its tight confines. It stood proudly between his legs and he gave it a few pumps before he shoved her panties aside and placed the head at her dripping entrance.

That’s when Madara’s phone rang. The noise drew Sakura’s attention and she glanced at him over her shoulder only for a flicker of disappointment to pass behind her eyes. Irritation at the interruption swelled within him and he dug the device out of the pocket of his slacks to hurl it over his shoulder.

The action drew a short laugh from Sakura, but it quickly cut off as he finally sheathed himself inside her. A loud, feminine cry escaped her, but he didn’t stop until the curve of her ass was flush against his hips and he was fully seated within her warmth. He groaned in appreciation. Her walls rippled around him, milking his member and tempting him into coming already. He had to force his eyes closed and take a deep, measured breath to calm himself.

Then Sakura said below him, “Move, dammit.”

The demand was more of a desperate moan, but it had the dominant side of Madara rearing its head and roaring for him to remind her who was in charge.

Shoving Sakura back down against the desk with one hand, he used the other to grasp her waist just below where her skirt was bunched up. He withdrew only to slam into her again loud enough for the slap of flesh-on-flesh to echo throughout the office. His grip was bruising as he started a punishing pace. Satisfaction snaked through Madara’s veins when she released a loud, unbridled cry.

She was so stunningly sexy bent over like this. She was all soft curves and smooth skin. That burning desire to mark her hit him not for the first time. Only now, he craved to in a different way. In a primal way. He wanted to see the evidence of their coupling days later. He wanted her to look in the mirror and remember exactly how fully he had claimed her.

Twisting his fingers into her hair, Madara hauled her up until her back was pressed to his chest. Her gown smoothed over the soft cotton of his dress shirt and he sunk his teeth into the back of her shoulder until he was certain she would have a blemish there in the morning.

“You’re mine,” he growled into her ear.

With one hand on the desk to keep her balanced, she reached back to tangle her fingers into his hair. “You can’t–you can’t claim me like I’m some object,” she panted.

Madara chuckled, his rhythm never once faltering. “No, you’re much more important than that.” Then his tone grew serious. “But don’t think I will ever let you go. Say it; tell me you’re mine.”

A hard thrust caused Sakura to arch against him as a moan spilled from her lips.

His hips slowed and he grasped her chin to force her gaze up to his. “Say it,” he ordered.

Her eyes were glazed over with lust and a whine fell from her lips at his torturous pace, but no matter how much she squirmed, he refused to speed up. Eventually she slumped in defeat. “I…I’m yours,” she submitted, her gaze falling downcast.

A satisfied smile crossed his lips. “Good girl,” he murmured.

He kissed her again. This time deep and slow until Sakura began to tremble in his arms, a whimper tumbling from her lips. “Please Madara…please don’t stop.”

“We’re only just getting started, love,” he promised.

Withdrawing from her, Madara spun Sakura around before he kissed her again. His tongue slipped between her lips to tangle with hers as he tore the rest of her zipper apart. He then yanked her dress down her body and kicked it aside until it was a forgotten pile on the floor.

As soon as it was gone, he hoisted her up onto the sturdy oak. He ducked his head, his mouth finding a tightened nipple before he nipped at it. The action caused Sakura to throw her head back with a sharp cry and her fingers tangled into his hair as he teased her. Unconsciously, her hips rocked against his as she chased after her pleasure, her knee bumping against the holstered gun under his arm. Her essence stained the center seam of his pants, but Madara hardly cared. Not when she was so desperate for him. He needed to be inside her again.

Pushing himself upright once more, he quickly loosened his tie as he gazed down at Sakura. Her nipples tightened into taut buds under his intense stare, but she didn’t shy away from him. He enjoyed her confidence and he simply watched as her hands found his abdomen again. She pushed his waistcoat aside before she reached for his shirt. Only for her to rip it open. Buttons went flying and she shoved the material out of the way to smooth her palms over the defined muscles of his chest.

Growling, Madara pinned her hands against his desk as he loomed over her. “I was fond of that shirt.”

“Then you shouldn’t have teased me,” she retorted.

He bit back his snarl. Was he ever going to rid her of that defiance?

Grasping her panties, Madara jerked them down her legs before he threw them somewhere over his shoulder, leaving her in nothing but black stilettos. He stepped towards her again as she dropped back onto her elbows before he curled his hands around the back of her knees to pull her to the edge of the desk until he could settle between her thighs.

It was then that he saw the scarring again. The kanji that Tobirama had so cruelly carved into her flesh. A swell of protection roared within his chest and he dug his fingers into the tissue as if wanting to replace the memory with one of his own. Sakura didn’t seem to notice.

In one smooth motion, he impaled himself inside her again. The challenge melted off her face much to his triumph and gave way to pleasure as she collapsed onto her back against the smooth surface. He hiked her long leg over his shoulder, enjoying the bite of the strap of her heel against his skin as he sucked bruises just above her ankle.

Like this, he was able to reach new depths within her. He fucked her hard. Hard enough that the heavy desk threatened to scrape across the hardwood floor. It shook with the strength behind his driving thrusts and her breasts bounced beautifully as she writhed beneath him. Her nails dug into the edge of the desk as she held on for dear life. At least until he angled his hips until he found that one spot inside her that made her scream. Her hands snapped up to clutch his forearms as her back arched off the desk.

“Fuck, right there!” she cried.

But Madara wasn’t done yet. He shook off one of her hands to reach down between them until his thumb found that sensitive bundle of nerves above her center. She wailed. Her heels dug into his shoulders and she thrashed beneath him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from where they were joined. His length was soaked with her essences and he knew it was a sight he wouldn’t soon forget.

“Madara!” she sobbed.

“That’s a good girl,” he encouraged, his voice rough with pleasure. His eyes sought her face again only to find her expression contorted in bliss. “Come for me, Sakura.”

And she did.

She stiffened under him before every muscle in her body snapped like a rubber band. She convulsed around him as she screamed through her climax. Wetness gushed around his length, but it was the way she said his name that did him in. A desperate and frantic plea that made his world shatter.

The muscles in his abdomen tightened in warning. A moment too late Madara remembered he wasn't wearing a condom. He tried to pull out, but he was already coming. His first spurt gushed inside her core before he came all over her pulsing sex and inner thighs with a broken groan. As the last waves of his orgasm washed through him, he stilled, watching his come drip down her scar and onto the desk below her. 

For a long moment, Madara didn't move. Then he picked his head up to look at her.

Sakura didn't even seem to notice the wetness coating her thighs as her body continued to tremble with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her eyes were closed and her chest was still heaving from the intensity of what had just happened. Madara’s own body was tired and he wanted nothing more than to collapse against her, but he didn’t want to crush her. Carefully supporting his weight, he leaned over to press a kiss to her shoulder. That stirred her.

Cracking her eyes opened, Sakura peered up at him before she tilted her chin up, a silent request for a kiss. He obliged her immediately. He pressed his mouth to hers, sweet and slow. A complete opposite from the hard fucking they had just engaged in. His fingers ghosted over the skin he had abused earlier before he finally reached up to cup her face. 

"You're too good at that," Sakura murmured.

“Better than your fantasies?”

A soft laugh bubbled out of her lips. “Much better.”

“Maybe one day you will tell me the specifics,” he teased.

“Maybe,” she said, her eyes sparkling with silent mischief. “But only if you tell me yours.”

Madara chuckled before he brushed a stray hair off her forehead. Even flushed and disheveled, she looked utterly beautiful. He couldn’t help but stare at her. At least until she shifted and a small pinch of discomfort appeared on her face.

"Did I hurt you? Are you sore?" he asked.

"Just my back. But that's from the desk," she told him, stretching slightly with a small wince. "Help me sit up?"

Immediately Madara straightened before he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and helped her upright. Sakura flashed him a small smile before she finally looked down at herself and saw the mess he had made. 

"Well..." she said slowly. "I’m in need of a shower."

Madara waited until he saw the teasing look on her face to chuckle softly. He reached over and grabbed a few tissues off the corner of his desk. "I would apologize but I wouldn't mean it."

A small laugh escaped Sakura as she pushed his shoulder playfully. He smiled in return before he cleaned her up, using the tissues to mop the wetness off her abused sex. He wiped off her thighs next, only for his hands to slow to a stop when his eyes fell to her scar again. He must have stared at it a moment too long for Sakura covered it with her fingers.

“Don’t,” she said quietly.

Immediately Madara felt the shift in her. Puzzled, he picked his head up to peer at her, but she was looking somewhere off to the side, either unable or unwilling to meet his gaze. Her expression was a little shy and a little self-conscious.

“You have nothing to hide from me,” he murmured softly.

The look on her face didn’t change. She simply shook her head before she said in a small voice, “I just…Every time I see it, it reminds me of him.”

 _Tobirama_ , she meant.

That burning feeling spread between Madara’s rib cage again. That desperate desire for the younger Senju brother's blood and an all-consuming need to protect Sakura. It took him a moment to reign in his emotions. There was no place for them in this moment.

“You can always get it covered,” he told her gently. “With something that brings you comfort.”

As if she had heard something more in his voice, her eyes flickered to his wrists where his tattoos were peeking out from under his sleeves. Her fingers ghosted along his skin where the first thorns were branded into his flesh. Goosebumps broke out across his arm, but he didn’t pull away from her.

Madara wondered if she was pondering what lay beneath the ink. If she had put together that beneath the memory of his mother was another less pleasant one of his father. Of cigarette burns and scars from shattered glass after his father's favorite brandy hadn’t been enough to appease his anger.

Madara knew she had found what she was looking for when her finger brushed over a burn. Her thumb smoothed over it in a featherlight caress and she stared at the hidden memory for a long time before she finally raised her gaze to his again.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she agreed just as quietly.

A comfortable silence settled between them. Madara finished cleaning the wetness off her skin before he tucked himself back into his pants. With a brief kiss to her forehead, he turned away to search the room for their clothing. He found his tie on the floor and her panties on the arm of the couch with his phone on the cushion beside it. He tucked both his belongings into the pocket of his slacks before he passed her lace bottoms to her.

"Thanks," Sakura murmured. Then she eyed her dress where it was still piled on the floor. "I do not want to put that thing on right now. It was hard enough getting into without being all...sticky."

A swell of masculine pride curled into Madara's chest at that, but he merely picked up his suit jacket. "Wear this."

It fit him well, but with Sakura's small stature, she would drown in the material. It would keep her decent enough to get her down the hall to his bedroom where they could clean up properly.

A smile of appreciation crossed Sakura’s face and he helped her shrug it on before a wide yawn stretched out of her mouth. She reached up to rub at her eyes only to quickly jerk her hand away with a curse. “Dammit, I forgot I still have makeup on.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Madara said suddenly. He didn’t particularly care for the slight inflection in his voice, but his gaze was unwavering as he carefully studied her.

Sakura lowered her hand to tug his jacket a little tighter around herself. She was quiet a long moment before she sighed. “I’m still upset with you.”

Those words made his stomach churn in a way he wasn’t accustomed to, but he nodded nevertheless. “I know. And you have every right to be. But I’m asking you to stay,” he said. Then he added, “Please.”

The longest second in the world passed and then another before her expression finally softened. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

The relief that swept through him nearly made his legs weak all over again, but he pulled himself together.

Stepping towards her, Madara helped Sakura slip off the desk. He ensured she was steady on her feet before he quickly cleaned the mess they had made on the surface. He then retrieved her weapon and her dress from where it was still piled on the ground. With her gun in his hand and her dress draped over his elbow, Madara wrapped his other arm securely around her waist before he led Sakura out of his office and back down the hall to his bedroom. Fortunately, his staff had the sense to stay away and they passed no one.

As soon as they were inside his room, he released her to close the door behind them. He laid her dress over one of the sitting chairs in the corner before he turned to find Sakura was eyeing the room with interest.

He gestured towards the short hallway off to the right that led to the bathroom. “The shower is in there.”

Sakura followed his direction with her eyes before she peered up at him through her lashes, her expression a little shy. “Come with me?”

Her request warmed him. He leaned down to press a brief kiss to her lips before his hand dropped to her lower back to urge her towards the bathroom. “I’ll be there shortly.”

A small but adorable pout crossed her lips before she disappeared into the hall without another word. He waited until he heard the rush of water from the sink before he made his way towards the bed. There, he set Sakura’s gun on the nightstand before he shrugged out of his holster and placed it down beside hers. The sight was so odd Madara couldn’t help but stare at the weapons laying side-by-side. Almost like a his and hers.

It brought a small chuckle of amusement to him as he shrugged out of his shirt. He laid the torn material across the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed, a silent reminder to hand it over to Hina for repairs.

From his vantage point there, he could see into the bathroom. Sakura was standing at the sink still in his suit jacket. Her hair was piled up into a messy bun now as she scrutinized the mirror. With his lust now satiated for the time being, he took a moment to just enjoy watching her. She was so graceful without even realizing it as she gently scrubbed the makeup from her face. Her hands moved with practiced ease, strong and yet so gentle. The hands of a surgeon.

The thought made his mind automatically return to Hashirama. It was unsettling but not entirely surprising that he had approached Sakura tonight. Still, Madara was far from thrilled she had caught Hashirama’s eye. Being of interest to one Senju brother was one thing, but two…Sakura was in danger. More than she had ever been before. He obviously wanted her to keep her freedoms, but he was concerned for her safety. For his entire family’s safety.

Turning away, Madara reached into his pocket to withdraw his phone. The call earlier had been from Izuna and his brother had left him a text message with suggestions on how they should move forward. Madara wanted to act quickly but strategically. They had been in a sort of truce with the Senju these past few years. Even this recent feud over Sakura was somewhat small in comparison to previous spats they’d had before. A few months ago, he thought it best to force Tobirama’s hand, but with the arrival of his brother, Madara was beginning to realize it might be best to reverse his decision. He had already lost one nephew this year. He was not interested in losing another.

As much as Madara hated to do it, his family needed to take a step back. Right now, the Senjus’ only beef was over the incident with Sakura. If Madara could strike some sort of deal with Hashirama, perhaps he could get Tobirama to call off his hunt for Sakura’s blood.

Typing out his message, Madara’s finger hovered over the send button for a long moment before he finally sent it. He could only hope this strategy worked in his favor. He felt like the ancient Greek Titan, Atlas, who was responsible for holding up the heavens from the world. And today, the sky felt so heavy.

It wasn’t until Madara heard the pad of footsteps against the carpet that he realized the faucet in the bathroom had shut off. He darkened his phone screen just as Sakura stopped behind him. For a moment, she did nothing. Then her fingertips touched the space between his shoulder blades, her caress gentle as she traced some random design.

No, not random, he realized. She was tracing the tattoo there. It was an intricate image of a royal crown with sharp thorns woven around the rim. A symbolic reminder of the sacrifices of being king. He had gotten it shortly after his father had died when Madara had lost a dozen men in a poorly planned raid organized by himself.

How fitting that Sakura should find it now.

“Is everything alright?” she murmured softly.

Madara set his phone down on the bed before he faced her. The black and shimmering gold makeup that had lined her eyes that evening was gone now, leaving her face fresh and natural. Her irises seemed even brighter now. She was so much more beautiful to him this way, and the worst of his troubles seemed to quiet into background noise.

“Everything is fine,” he told her.

She didn’t look convinced but she didn’t press.

He raked his eyes down her form then. Behind the collar of his jacket, he saw the red marks peppering her throat and collarbone. There were lines on her skin where his hands had dug into her thighs. Automatically he reached towards her, his thumb tracing across a welt above her collarbone.

“You said you would join me,” Sakura reminded him.

The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile. “So I did.”

Side-by-side, they slipped into the bathroom. Sakura pulled two towels from the large closet in the corner while Madara started the water to warm. Once he was sure it was the right temperature, he stripped himself of his slacks and boxers before he turned back to Sakura. She was already naked and he gently ushered her into the wide stall before he slid the glass door closed behind them.

Madara would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy helping her wash up. Her skin was silky smooth and she was so responsive. With her back pressed against the wall and her hands gripping him for support, he brought her to another orgasm with his fingers. His name was just as sweet on her lips as the time before.

By the time they stepped out of the shower, exhaustion was clearly written on Sakura’s face. After switching off the lights, he crawled into bed beside her, tucking the soft, grey sheets and comforter over her before he wrapped her up in his arms. She was so relaxed beside him. He could already feel her breath evening out when he finally murmured into the dark, “I’m sorry for frightening you last week.”

A soft, tired hum came from Sakura. “What’re you talking about?”

“That night in the living room.”

His comment caused a frown to cross her face and she blinked the sleep from her eyes to peer up at him. “When did I say I was frightened of you?”

This time, it was Madara’s turn to be confused. He could clearly recall those words from her mouth, but now that he observed her, he began to wonder if he had been mistaken. There was no trace of that uncertainty and fear now. In fact, now that he thought about it, she hadn’t displayed any terror towards him tonight. Only anger and passion.

“You said…” he began slowly.

“Is that why you had been avoiding me?” Sakura asked, her voice gravelly with sleep but no less curious. She shifted in his arms until she could clearly look at him through the shadows. When he remained quiet, she clarified, “I was never scared of you, Madara. I was scared of what you were and what that meant for me. I was keeping you at arm’s length because I was frightened that if I gave into you, I would be trapped in the mafia world forever.” Then she added more quietly, “But I guess tonight only confirmed that I already am.”

The note of defeated resolve in her voice made something twist uncomfortably in Madara’s stomach. He knew their goal was always to keep her safe so she could go on with her life as normally as possible, but it wasn’t until that exact moment that it dawned on him that she might stay. It surprised him just as much to realize he didn’t want to be in this world without her.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Madara said not for the first time that night. Only now, the words held a deeper emotion.

Sakura stared at him before she exhaled a troubled breath. “You can’t treat me like I’m one of your subordinates. You can’t just order me around.”

“I don’t mean to,” he quickly told her.

And it was true. For so many years, he had been the Boss, the one in charge; his decisions gone unquestioned. It was hard for him to take a step back and treat Sakura like an equal. He was fallible that way. She made him fallible. She came from a world that ran parallel to his and yet was nothing alike. She saved people where he killed them. She was compassionate whereas he was cold. She gave everything while he took what he could get and always hungered for more.

A large part of him worried that he wasn’t enough for her. She deserved the sun and all he could offer her was the dark. It was that apprehension that caused his arms to tighten around her just a little more.

“You’re important to me. I would give my life for you. I just fear I can’t give you what you need,” Madara said, his voice nearly a whisper. “I don’t want to fail you.”

“Madara…”

That single murmur of his name held more emotion than he could ever remember hearing in her voice. It was both vulnerable and sad. Immediately, he released his grip around her middle to reach up and card his fingers through her hair to soothe her, but she gently grasped his wrist, stilling his movements.

“You could never fail me,” she told him, her voice soft but laced with thick emotion. “I won’t let you.”

An intense feeling exploded in his chest. His heart filled with a scorching heat until it ached. In that moment, all the darkness of his world faded until all that remained was her light.

The hand in Sakura’s hair tightened and Madara tugged her towards him until he could seal his mouth to hers. His kiss wasn’t nearly as hungry as it had been an hour ago, but it was just as passionate. She melted into him as she kissed him back just as vehemently, her arms snaking around his neck and locking him in place.

He hadn’t meant for it to go further than that, but suddenly he was inside her again, their bodies moving in slow but deep sync as he lost himself in her haven. And for the first time that he could ever remember, he wasn’t the Mafia King. He wasn’t even Madara. He was just a man. And he had never felt safer.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the massive delay! This chapter ended up going through an ENTIRE rewrite. So many thanks to the wonderful Moor. She really pulled a rabbit out of a hat to help me get this fixed up to my liking. If you love this story, please stop by and read her story: Heavy in Your Arms. It is a fanfic of this fanfic. (Please note: her story is not at all canon to this story). 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/26454157
> 
> Also shout out to AmayaNoAkatsuki and our discord discussion on sheet colors ha! https://www.gq.com/story/wash-your-damn-sheets
> 
> As always, thank you for your reviews! Please don't forget to drop one as this chapter took almost two weeks straight to get right. Much love!


	13. Chapter 13

**_Chapter Thirteen_ **

Water lapped at the edge of the pool. It echoed against the tiles and bounced up towards the high ceiling where the light of dawn was just beginning to filter through. It was almost time for Sakura to get ready for work.

Inhaling another deep breath, she ducked her head beneath the surface as she drove herself down the length of the pool. At the edge, she flipped under the water, kicking against the wall to propel herself in the direction she had just come from.

It had only been a few short weeks since she had begun exercising again and already, the strength was returning to her shoulders and core. She felt good, energized. There was even a noticeable difference in her work. The long hours of surgery didn’t seem nearly exhausting and her attention was more focused. Not to mention, it was excellent stress relief. Because when you lived with the mafia, there was plenty of that.

After swimming a half dozen more laps, Sakura paused to rest at the deep end. Her heart pounded in her chest and the blood roared in her ears as she fought for breath after the cardio she had just forced her heart and lungs to endure. Pushing her goggles to her forehead, she reached for the water bottle she had left on the silver stones lining the edge of the pool before her eyes flickered towards the clock on the wall. It was nearing five in the morning. Her shift started soon. That flare of nervousness fluttered in her stomach not for the first time.

Three days had already passed since the fundraiser and in that time, Sakura had called into work sick. Perhaps it was unprofessional of her, but in a sense, she hadn’t been feeling well. Now that she knew who Hashirama was, just the thought of seeing him in the once-safe walls of her hospital made her nauseous.

Shaking herself, Sakura swallowed another mouthful of cool water before she set her bottle aside. Deciding she had just enough time to do a few more laps before she had to get ready for work, she slipped her goggles back over her eyes before she sank back beneath the crystal water.

The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon when Sakura finally climbed out of the pool. After drying herself off, she slipped on her robe before she gathered her things and headed back up to the third floor.

Madara’s room was empty when she arrived. Not that she was entirely expecting him to be there. He hadn’t given her the specifics of what was going on, but he had been busy the past few nights. She could see the exhaustion written on his face when he finally came home in the early morning hours.

Nevertheless, Sakura made herself at home as she hung her robe on the hook in the bathroom to dry before she stripped herself of her swimsuit. Madara had made it clear to her that she was welcome even without his presence. Something she was grateful for. There was something soothing about being in his space. A kind of comfort her room didn’t have. Maybe it was simply the fact that it was his. With his suits in the closet and his toiletries organized neatly in the cabinets behind the bathroom mirror, it was a reminder that she wasn’t alone. That she wasn’t in this dark, scary world by herself.

After pulling the ties out of her hair, Sakura untangled her braids the best she could while they were wet before she eyed herself in the mirror. There were welts and blemishes peppering her skin along her collarbone and chest where Madara had sunk his teeth into her flesh. The ones from their first night together were already beginning to fade, but next to them were fresher, more recent bites.

Pressing her fingers into the bruises along her hips, a faint wave of arousal curled warmly in the pit of Sakura’s stomach. They were from yesterday evening. Madara had cornered her in the hallway and taken her there against the wall where any of his staff could have stumbled across them. Fortunately, no one had before he had carried her to his room and bent her over his bed.

Perhaps the bruises were a little possessive. She didn’t fully understand his obsession to leave a constant reminder of his claim over her. She suspected it stemmed from the painful scar Tobirama had permanently sliced into her skin, but Madara’s behavior didn’t bother her like she once thought it would. Instead, it caused the space between her legs to throb at the memory of him above her, against her, _inside_ her.

Forcing herself to turn away from the mirror, Sakura slipped into the shower. She scrubbed the scent of pool water from her skin before she washed her hair. She was just rinsing the conditioner out when she heard the shower door open. A moment later, a strong arm wrapped around her waist.

Automatically a smile crossed her face. She didn’t have the chance to open her eyes before a kiss was pressed to her lips.

“Good evening,” Sakura said, blinking her eyes open when Madara pulled away.

In front of her, the head of the Uchiha mafia stood unabashedly naked. She would never tire of staring at him. He was all defined muscles and intimidating strength. The tattoos painted on his arms only reminded her of his authority as Mob Boss, causing a shiver to vibrate down her spine, but it wasn’t fear. No, it definitely wasn’t fear.

Smoothing her hands up Madara’s arms, her fingers lingered on the scarring near his right shoulder. Her thumb traced a fading incision. It was the one she had cut herself when she had dug bullet fragments out of his muscle after they had been targeted. She was pleased to see it had healed so well.

“Good morning,” Madara returned, his voice a little rough.

Sakura’s finger stilled as a frown settled on her lips. That wasn’t a good sign. He had yelled at someone quite angrily last night to have strained his vocal cords like that. “Stressful night?” she asked.

Madara’s expression didn’t betray anything but his hands gripped her hips a little tighter. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

A faint hum of doubt rumbled in her throat, but she didn’t press. She already had enough on her mind with the hospital. Instead, she relaxed into Madara as his hands smoothed up her sides to her lower back. He drew her flush against him, his thickening length already half-hard against her stomach as he dipped his head to press his lips into the side of her neck and under her jaw. It fueled the fire that was kindling between her legs.

She was nearly puddy in his hands when he murmured against her skin, “Are you sure you have to go to work today? You could stay here with me instead.”

Sakura meant to sigh. What came out instead was a low moan when his teeth gently scraped over the tendon in her neck. Her fingers twisted into his wet hair, holding him there a moment before she gently urged him back so she could look up at him. His eyes were a black hole, fathomless and all-consuming.

“I miss my work, Madara,” she told him softly as her hands slipped down to rest on his biceps. The muscles were firm under her palms, his power dwarfing the strength in her fingertips. “I miss my patients. Even with the threat of Hashirama there.”

A sound of disappointment rumbled deep in Madara’s chest before the tension drained out of his body in defeat. For the most part, he had been accepting of her decision to continue working, but she was aware that his concern for her safety always lingered in his mind.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he eventually asked fondly as his arms tightened securely around her.

A laugh tumbled out of Sakura’s mouth. “You shouldn’t complain. That’s what attracted you to me in the first place.”

A brief look of agreement crossed Madara’s face, but that’s all she saw before he bent his head to kiss her again. It started slow before it evolved into something much more heated and passionate.

By the time Sakura left for work, there were at least three new bruises bitten into her inner thigh and her sex was still pulsing softly in the aftermath of Madara’s attention. Her escort, Asao, dropped her off in front of the building with a promise to remain close before she took the elevator to the floor with the attendings’ lounge. There, Sakura changed into her scrubs and grabbed her stethoscope before she headed down to the ER to start her day.

Unsurprisingly, Naruto saddled up to her as soon as she stopped to read the patient board. “So, finally decided to come back to work, did we?”

Against her will, a small smile curled in the corner of her mouth before she gave him a quick glance. “What? You miss me or something?”

“Or something,” he said, handing her a coffee. Her brow arched in surprise but she accepted it nevertheless with a smile of thanks. “Where have you been anyway? I haven’t seen you since the fundraiser.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling well,” Sakura told him. Which she supposed was half true.

Naruto shot her a mild look of surprised disbelief. “Enough to miss work?”

“Yes. Why is that so surprising?”

“Because you’ve never missed work. Like ever,” he said.

“Well, I’m here now,” Sakura said lightly before she redirected the conversation. “How are things looking this morning?”

“Could be better, could be worse,” Naruto replied before sipping his coffee. “There’s a guy in bed three with a fractured pelvis, but his vitals are stable and Ortho is already in today, so they’ll take him down to the OR.”

“You sound disappointed,” Sakura teased.

Her blond friend grinned in return. “I can’t say I don’t enjoy a messy surgery.”

“That’s messed up.”

Naruto only laughed, nudging her shoulder with his own. “Don’t even try to tell me you don’t too.”

As if all her concerns had been washed away, Sakura smiled. Her anxieties from that morning seemed like far away shadows on a sunny day and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe I do. I’ve been missing a good surgery while I was home.”

As if on cue, the phone beside the nurses’ station rang. A young woman behind the desk answered and listened intently on the other end before she informed the incoming ambulance they would be on standby. As soon as she hung up, she looked at the pair of doctors. “Incoming trauma. Forty-three-year-old male fell off scaffolding while working construction. A piece of rebar pierced his upper right quadrant. Ambulance is two minutes out.”

A burst of energy stronger than any shot of caffeine flooded Sakura’s system. She shared a glance with Naruto only to find he was biting back a smile of excitement. Perhaps it was messed up of them to be eager when someone’s life had just changed for the worst, but this is what they had spent the last fifteen years of their lives training for. There was a thrill in the challenge and a feeling of exhilaration in the success.

Cheering their coffees together, Naruto and Sakura pounded back their drinks before they slipped on their gowns and gloves, and made ready to greet their first patient of the morning.

xx

A hum of exhilaration was still lingering in Sakura’s veins by the time she stepped out of her last surgery for the day. She and Naruto had successfully saved the construction worker’s life before they moved on to two more back-to-back traumas. Even though they had lost their second patient and Sakura had been on her feet for more than twelve hours, she hadn’t felt this content in a longtime. Being back in the OR was like coming home after a long vacation. Comforting and familiar. All her concerns from that morning felt like nothing more than a faded nightmare.

Through the glass window dividing the scrub room from the operating room, Sakura washed the sweat and scent of antiseptic from her hands as she watched the theatre nurses roll her latest patient out. A smile crossed her face at the steady vitals displayed on the patient’s machine. The surgery on the young woman had been difficult, but that only made the success that much sweeter.

Once her hands were clean and dried, Sakura finally slipped out of the scrub room. The surgical floor was busy with the evening traffic and she dodged around a couple of gurneys making their way to and from the recovery ward as she headed towards the surgical board to clear her name off. Naruto was still operating she realized as she eyed the board with vague interest. As was the Chief of Surgery, surprisingly. He must have been teaching the interns to be here so late. That made her smile widen minutely. Chief Hiruzen hated working late. He was probably purposely giving the young doctors a hard time. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It would make them better surgeons down the road.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, Sakura checked her messages for the first time in nearly three hours. There were dozens of texts from her friends in their group chat, the most recent from Hinata apologizing that she couldn’t make it. Confused, Sakura scrolled up to the start of the thread. There, she saw a message from Ino demanding their group of friends all meet her for a drink, or three. She and Shikamaru had just broken up.

That caused Sakura to frown. She thought they had just been messing around. When had they even started dating?

Typing out a message, she began to write out a reply that she would meet them there in an hour. As appealing as the thought of returning home to Madara was, it was nice to be out of the house again and she was going to savor the feeling just a little longer.

“Doctor Haruno!” a nurse called.

At the sound of her name, Sakura stopped walking and looked up from her phone to glance towards the nurses’ station. A girl a few years Sakura’s junior was smiling at her apologetically.

“Sorry, the morgue just called,” she said. “They said Dr. Uzumaki forgot to sign off on the death certificate for the patient the pair of you operated on earlier this afternoon. I know he’s still in surgery, but would you mind…”

A frown crossed Sakura’s face. That was odd. Naruto had a surprisingly good track record for completing all his paperwork. He didn’t usually forget something like that. Then again, today had been a little hectic.

“Uh, yeah,” she nodded. “I’ll head down there now.”

The nurse smiled her thanks before Sakura continued on her way. She headed down the hall away from the operating rooms and towards the extra supply closets where the back elevator would take her down to the bottom floor of the hospital. In the lift, she finished typing out her message, only for a faintly annoyed sigh to slip out of her mouth when her phone lost its signal.

Frowning, Sakura tried to send the message again, but her phone immediately shot back an error message. Guess it would have to wait until she got back upstairs.

Pocketing her phone, Sakura turned her attention to the glowing, red numbers above the control panel as the digital display counted down until the lift reached the basement. The doors slid open to an empty hall. There wasn’t a single person in sight, only a few metal shelves and an abandoned gurney pushed against one wall. It was a little eerie, but not terribly surprising. There were only two types of people that came down to the basement: the doctors that worked in the morgue and the dead.

Still, goosebumps rose along Sakura’s skin. She had been to the bottom floor a dozen times before, but it never failed to give her the creeps. It was a little too cold, a little too quiet and always had the scent of death in the air. Her footsteps echoed against the tiles of the long hallway. The eeriness put her on edge, but she pressed on, passing one dark, abandoned room after another until she reached the thick, steel door of the morgue. She grasped the chilled, metal handle and twisted it open.

“Sakura.”

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Sakura whipped around. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs in fright as her eyes locked on a figure half-sunken in shadow in an unused conference room. Pressing her back against the frigid steel behind her, she stood frozen in place until a familiar face stepped out into the light.

“Tsunade,” Sakura exhaled breathlessly. She placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart as she slowly released the large breath she had inhaled to scream.

An apologetic look flashed across her old mentor’s face. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Sakura said quickly as the sharp spike of terror that had ripped through her system began to fade. Then confusion took its place, causing her brows to furrow. “What are you doing here? I thought you had flown out after the fundraiser.”

The blonde woman inclined her head. “I was supposed to, but I decided to stay.”

“Why?”

“Because of you,” she answered, her hazel eyes utterly piercing.

In an instant, distrust settled low in Sakura’s stomach. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she wondered what exactly that meant. At the fundraiser, Tsunade had told her a little bit about her relationship with her cousins, but it had hardly been specific and it wasn’t likely Tsunade would come out and directly tell her that she was in league with the Senju brothers if she was trying to coerce or gain favor with Sakura.

As if reading her mind, Tsunade fully stepped out into the light of the hallway, her hands outstretched in a show of good faith. “I already told you I’m not involved in my family’s politics, Sakura. I’m not here to hurt you. I don’t mean any ill-will.”

With all their past history, it was so easy to believe her. And Sakura wanted to believe her, but her world had been flipped on its side too many times in the recent past. She shook her head. “Even if I did believe that, I don’t have time to talk. The morgue called me down–”

“Actually, they didn’t.”

That made a sudden chill sweep through Sakura. All her feelings of lightness and content from her last, successful surgery fell out of her like a stone dropped in an icy lake as understanding washed through her. Tsunade had called her down here, not the morgue. To the most isolated, abandoned area in the entire hospital.

Flickering her eyes both ways down the hall, Sakura realized just how alone they were. Just how easily she could disappear and never be heard from again. Fear snaked up her spine like creeping ice. Every muscle in her body tensed as her fight-or-flight response kicked in. 

Slowly, she turned her gaze back to the seemingly-innocent woman across from her. “What do you want?”

“I’m just here to talk. Nothing more,” Tsunade said.

Sakura’s brow arched warily. “In the basement of the hospital?”

“It’s the only place I could get you alone. The only place without cameras,” the older woman told her somberly. “Hashirama can’t know I’m speaking to you.”

That only succeeded in raising Sakura’s misgivings further. “Why?”

A familiar look of impatience flickered across the older woman’s face. It was one she used to use when Sakura was a student and asked a question she should already know the answer to. “I think you know why. My family wants you, Sakura. And there’s only one thing protecting you from them right now.”

“And that’s what?” Sakura asked, trying to hide the fact she was trembling.

If Tsunade noticed, she didn’t give any indication. She merely crossed her arms loosely over her chest. “Tobirama wants your blood but Hashirama thinks you might be of some use to him.”

“Use how?”

“Because of your relationship with Madara.”

Immediately Sakura shook her head. “I don’t have a relationship with Madara–”

“It’s just us here, Sakura,” her old mentor interrupted not unkindly. “And even if it wasn’t, it’s clear that you’re more than just a protected interest. You haven’t been to your apartment in weeks. And your escort has been taking you to the east side of the city.”

To where Madara lived.

It went unsaid, but Sakura could read between the older woman’s words easy enough to know exactly what she was implying. If blood could freeze, Sakura’s would be solid in her veins at that moment. A cold sweat broke out across her skin and she swallowed thickly. “Tobirama is tracking me there.”

Tsunade nodded. “Yes.”

Looking away, Sakura ran a rough hand over the braid pinning her hair back. Anxiety constricted within her chest as she tried to recall every place she had been in the last month. Where he could have followed her and who she might have been seen with.

“I’m not trying to frighten you, Sakura,” Tsunade said after a moment, her voice taking on a softer note. “I just want you to understand. Tobirama won’t listen to anything or anyone, except for his older brother. Hashirama is the only thing that can protect you from him. If you can reach some kind of middle ground…”

Sakura blinked in disbelief. “You want me to strike a deal with him?”

“It’s the only way to end this thing between you and Tobirama.”

“You mean besides one of us ending up dead,” she said dryly.

Tsunade nodded solemnly. “Yes.”

The note of finality in her voice washed away Sakura’s dark amusement as quickly as it had come. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she pursed her lips tightly. “Why should I trust you?”

“I’ve known you for years, Sakura. I respect the surgeon and woman you’ve become. Our history should be enough to know you can trust me,” Tsunade said, her voice soft with sincerity.

Even though the words pained her, Sakura shook her head. “But it’s not. It’s not enough. You of all people should know it takes more than that to trust someone.”

“I of all people?”

“Those like you who were born into the mafia,” Sakura explained. “If you really want to try and regain my trust, then tell me how you were able to walk away.”

An unexpected shadow of grief flickered across Tsunade’s face. It suddenly aged her well beyond her years and she took a long-drawn breath as she reached up to trace her fingers down the chain of her necklace. It was a blue crystal with twin, silver balls framing either side of it. “Because of Dan.”

Confused, Sakura shook her head. “Who is Dan?”

“He was my fiancé. We were…we were going to get married. And then he was killed in an ambush. I left the country while I mourned,” Tsunade explained. Her voice was quiet even in the silent hallway, but Sakura could hear the pain lacing her words like she was still mourning. “By the time I returned here, I was already out of the loop on my family’s politics and Hashirama had no need for my services. I’m free to do as I please, but I linger on the sidelines.”

“At least until Hashirama calls upon you again.”

“Yes,” Tsunade nodded.

Sakura swallowed slowly. “And has he called upon you?”

“Not yet. But because of our history, I suspect he will soon.”

Sakura chewed the inside of her lower lip as she considered that. Against her better judgement, she believed her old mentor. Sakura knew she shouldn’t even be considering it, but she couldn’t help but voice the question. “Let’s say I do try to make a deal with Hashirama. What could I possibly offer him?”

“Your services,” Tsunade said factually.

Sakura was quick to shake her head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“It’s the only way to keep you and your friends safe, Sakura.”

That made her still. Sakura eyed her mentor for a second that lasted an eternity before she dared ask, “What about my friends?”

The look Tsunade sent her made dread begin to flood her veins like blood slowly filling cracks in the pavement. “If you think you’re the only one Tobirama has eyes on, you’re wrong. Naruto is protected because of his connection with the hospital, but Ino…”

Her best friend’s name out of Tsunade’s mouth only made a cold front sweep through her system. She thought back to the thread of texts in her group chat. She didn’t know if Tenten had arrived yet, but she knew Ino was already at the bar waiting. Was Tobirama there too?

Like a slap to the face, panic seized her. Sakura didn’t waste another second replying to Tsunade. Instead, she turned on her heels and sprinted down the hall.

At the elevator, Sakura frantically smashed the button to call the lift, her finger jamming against the control panel time and time again when the doors took too long to open. As soon as she was inside, she tried calling her best friend, but the service inside the hospital was always a little spotty. Instead, Sakura typed out a quick message with shaking fingers before she sent it. The instant the doors to the lift opened, she bolted to the attendings’ lounge.

Changing in record time, Sakura snatched her purse and jacket from her locker before she rushed down the main hospital stairs to the front door with a quick message to her escort. Asao was just pulling to a stop near the front doors when she finally sprinted out of the hospital.

“I need you to take me to Ichiraku’s bar on the corner of Sixth and Pine,” Sakura ordered.

Confusion was written all over the younger man’s face at her frenzied behavior, but he steered them there nonetheless. The entire drive to the bar Sakura tried dialing Ino. Only to get her best friend’s voicemail over and over again.

By the time they arrived at the bar, Sakura was nearly sick with worry. She jumped out of the car before it had even come to a complete stop and she dashed inside without a word to Asao. The tavern was already packed with customers for the night, forcing her to balance on the toes of her boots as she scanned the numerous tables and booths littered around the floor.

Sakura’s knees nearly went weak with relief when she saw her best friend seated at a table with Tenten. The pair of women were chatting without a care in the world as they cheered their shot glasses together before they tossed them back in one go. Still, Sakura made one quick sweep of the room. When she saw nothing and no one out of the ordinary, a heavy but grateful breath passed between her lips.

“Hey! I thought you said you wouldn’t be here for another half hour,” Ino said when Sakura approached the table.

Her knees were still shaking a little in the wake of her adrenaline crash, but Sakura made a point to shrug casually as she hung her purse on one of the hooks beneath the table before she slipped into one of the empty seats. “I got finished a little earlier than I thought.”

“Better than Hinata,” Ino muttered into her shot glass. “She’s probably fucking Naruto right now.”

“I doubt that. Naruto is in surgery,” Sakura defended. Then she asked, “What happened anyway? I thought things were going great with you and Shikamaru?”

“I thought so too,” her blonde friend said miserably. “But apparently he was still talking to Temari.”

“No, he didn’t…” Tenten said, her eyes wide.

“Yep. They got back together this morning.”

Even over the noise of the bar, Sakura heard the slight inflection in Ino’s tone. It was full of hurt and betrayal. The threat of Tobirama was still lurking in Sakura’s mind like a predator in the shadows, but seeing her best friend so upset caused her heart to soften in sympathy. “At least you two weren’t together that long.”

Ino seemed to pause a moment as she studied Sakura, a faint look of confusion crossing her face. “We were together for almost five months.”

Sakura blinked. Had it really been that long already? They had gotten together around the time Sakura had moved into Madara’s house. That felt like it had only been a few, short weeks ago. Had the mafia really taken up so much of her time?

Apparently it had, judging by the frown Ino was shooting her. However, Sakura couldn’t find it within herself to feel too sorry. Ino was a great friend, but she couldn’t even begin to understand the fear and stress Sakura had been under since meeting Madara.

Fortunately, they were saved from their awkward silence when Ayame arrived with another round of drinks. She set down three shot glasses on the table with what smelled like tequila before she flashed Ino a sympathetic smile. “This one is on me,” she said before she left to attend to the other tables.

Tenten glanced between Sakura and Ino before she grabbed her shot and raised it. “You know what, you’re gorgeous and smart and deserve so much more than to be a rebound chick, so fuck him.”

Sakura picked up her glass too. “Fuck him,” she repeated.

That seemed to draw some of the life back into Ino for a smile began to show in the corner of her mouth. She picked up her shot glass as well and cheered it against theirs before echoing, “Fuck him.”

Then they drank.

xx

An hour and four shots of tequila later, Sakura was definitely buzzed. It was the most carefree she had been all week. Which wasn’t really saying much with everything that had happened at the hospital’s annual fundraiser, but she still enjoyed listening to Ino tell a story about her latest bridezilla at her salon.

Even the sadness that had been overshadowing Ino’s expression when Sakura had first arrived at the bar was absent. Under the haze of liquor, the outside world was so far away from their little group. It was just another night out with the girls.

“I don’t know how you deal with those women,” Tenten shook her head with secondhand annoyance.

Ino shrugged. “They’re mostly harmless. They can be demanding, but they just want everything done right for their special day.”

A doubtful hum sounded from Tenten before she shot a glance in Sakura’s direction. “I prefer your job. At least your customers are unconscious.”

“I believe they’re normally called ‘patients’,” Sakura said, drawing a fit of giggles from the girls.

“Whatever you want to call them,” Tenten said just as her phone pinged inside her purse. She dug the device out and unlocked the screen to read her message before she smiled at Sakura and Ino apologetically. “Neji is here. Sorry to bounce on you guys, but I have to work tomorrow and I have a meeting in the morning I can’t miss.”

Ino pouted. “You sure you don’t want to stay for another round?”

“I always want to stay for another round,” Tenten grinned. “But I really have to get going.”

After another half-teasing whine from Ino, Tenten placed enough money on the table to cover her tab and then some before she gave the girls each a hug, Ino’s lasting a little longer. Then the brunette was out the door.

With the absence of their buffer, the conversation at the table quickly dwindled. Sakura gazed down at her shot glass as she spun it slowly between her fingers. Even the loud murmur of dozens of conversations within the bar couldn’t disguise the small pull of tension between them.

“I feel alone.”

Ino’s murmur caused Sakura to look up at her friend. A small, forced smile of sympathy crossed her lips. “It always feels that way after a breakup, but it’ll get easier–”

“I don’t mean Shikamaru.”

Sakura had already known that, but there wasn’t anything she could say. Not without putting Ino in danger. “Work has just been busy the last few weeks,” she said, the lie tumbling out of her mouth far easier than it should have.

However, Ino’s blue eyes were unwavering. “I don’t believe you. I thought that if I gave you some time, you would eventually tell me, but it’s been months, Sakura. You used to tell me everything. Do you not trust me anymore?”

“Of course I do, Ino.”

“Then please talk to me.”

Sakura opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her gaze fell downcast guiltily and she stared down at her shot glass half-wishing it was full if only to keep her mouth busy for a moment. But it wasn’t. And Ino was still waiting for an answer. She needed an escape.

“I have to use the bathroom,” Sakura said, pushing away from the table. She didn’t wait for a reply before she stood and made her way towards the back of the bar where the restrooms were.

Inside, Sakura stood at the sink. She was alone and she took a moment to look at herself in the mirror; _really_ look at herself. She seemed older than she remembered. And not the typical way with wrinkles and greying hair. There was just something about her that gave off the feeling she had seen and done more in the past few months than the average person did in their lifetime.

The thud of the bathroom door abruptly opening and hitting the wall jarred Sakura out of her thoughts. Her head snapped towards the sound and her entire body tensed, ready for a fight, only to relax when she saw it was just a pair of girls coming in to relieve themselves. They were both drunk, judging by the way they spoke to each other in unnecessary raised voices.

Taking a deep breath, adrenaline melted out of Sakura’s system for the umpteenth time that night. She washed her hands for one minute and then another as if she was scrubbing into surgery. She still had no idea what to tell Ino, but her blonde friend had had a few drinks tonight. Sakura was practiced enough at dodging her questions that she could at least redirect their conversation tonight until she could figure out what to tell her later.

After rinsing the soap from her hands, Sakura dried them on a towel before she pushed the restroom door open with her elbow. She followed the hall back towards the bar. The room was even more packed than when she had left as the Thursday night crowd started their weekend a little early. Weaving her way through the bodies, Sakura found Ino exactly where she had left her. She was still sitting at their little table, but her friend was hardly alone.

Leave it to Ino to find another guy while she was nursing a broken heart, Sakura thought. At least until she recognized the tall male with a shock of white hair she would know anywhere.

_Tobirama._

Sakura stopped abruptly as her heart turned to stone in her chest. The patrons around her faded away as her entire world narrowed down until it was just Ino and Tobirama at their little table. His posture was relaxed as he stood with his hands in his pockets. In that moment, he looked like a regular guy in jeans and a black, leather jacket, but Sakura was only too aware he was anything but. She was rooted in place as Ino smiled up at Tobirama as they talked.

No, _flirted_.

They had been friends for far too long for Sakura not to recognize exactly what Ino was doing as she ran her hand through her long, blonde hair before she rested her elbow on the table, her chin on the back of her fingers.

From Sakura’s angle, she couldn’t see Tobirama’s face, but she could read Ino easily enough. Her smile was friendly, but not promiscuous. Just a bit of fun with no intention to go anywhere, but it didn’t stop Sakura’s adrenaline from flooding her veins like a broken dam. This was her worst nightmare brought to life. She wanted to yell, wanted to scream for Ino to get away from him, but if there was one thing Sakura had learned from Madara it was that the mafia was like a giant, invisible chessboard. The pieces had to be moved carefully.

Keeping to the edge of the bar, Sakura stood still as a statue as she observed them with a critical eye. She didn’t think Tobirama would be so bold as to manipulate Ino out of the bar here with so many people around, lest of all Sakura. He had to know she was here. So, what was he playing at?

A few more minutes passed as Tobirama and Ino chatted before he eventually took one step back. He flashed the blonde one last charming smile before he turned and walked away. Sakura didn’t like the way Ino’s eyes tracked him as he slipped through the bar, but she forced her attention to Tobirama as he made his way towards the kitchen and the back exit.

Sakura didn’t know if it was the liquor swirling in her veins or the sudden, overwhelming instinct to protect her best friend that caused unrelenting fury to abruptly overcome her, but she was moving before she realized it.

Pushing her way around the patrons at the bar counter, Sakura tailed Tobirama. He passed the kitchen and headed down the short hallway before he slipped out the backdoor. She was quick to follow.

The door led to a back alley that was illuminated by only a single street light. It was half the width of a normal city street with dumpsters and trash cans lined against the brick walls on both sides. The alley reeked of garbage and old beer, but Sakura didn’t notice any of that as she glanced both ways until she found which direction Tobirama had gone.

“You have some nerve,” she growled. Her voice was low, but her words echoed against the brick in the otherwise quiet backstreet.

It was enough to make Tobirama slow to a stop. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise, little treasure. It’s been far too long,” he said almost pleasantly.

Sakura stilled a few yards away, her jaw clenching briefly at the nickname before she snarled, “Not nearly long enough.”

That drew a single, deep chuckle from him. The sound only fueled the fire of her anger further. At least until Tobirama turned to face her. In the lowlighting, he looked exactly the same as he had before with his cold eyes and cruel, handsome face. Only now where there had once been a matching tattoo inked across his right cheek was a healing scar. It was still a little pink, still fresh, but Sakura recognized the injury immediately. It was a grazing bullet wound.

When the silence stretched on a moment too long, Tobirama cocked his head. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Swallowing thickly, Sakura forced her eyes away from the scar to meet his gaze. There was a hidden animosity simmering in his icy eyes that sent a shiver down her spine, but she didn’t back down. She couldn’t. Not with her best friend’s life at stake.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but it ends here. This is your only warning,” Sakura threatened, her courage slowly trickling back when her voice remained steady.

“Or what, you’ll kill me?” Tobirama asked, the corner of his mouth curving into a faint smirk. “I think we both recall how well that went last time.”

His arrogance struck a chord with her. Her eyes narrowed as that familiar resentment twisted in her chest like a snake curling up a tree to settle on a branch. “I won’t miss again,” she promised darkly. “You can target and terrorize me, but you will stay away from my family.”

“And why would I do that? Ino seems like such a nice girl.”

Her best friend’s name out of his mouth made something within Sakura snap. With no regard of the consequences, she rapidly closed the distance between them until she could slam Tobirama against the side of the alley. His back struck the brick wall with an audible thud as she glared up at him, her palm digging into the middle of his ribcage.

“You will stay away from her,” Sakura snarled.

Beneath her palm, Tobirama drew a single, easy breath as if her rough treatment didn’t even faze him. “Or you’ll do what?”

Too furious to think of a response, she remained silent, her glare her only answer. The smirk on his lips returned and his fingers were cold as they slid around her wrist before they tightened. She couldn’t pull away from him even if she tried.

“Little girls shouldn’t play with guns. You’ll only shoot yourself,” he murmured as if he was nothing more than a concerned friend. “And there’s no one here to protect you now. Not even that little boy you call your security detail. Tell me, does Asao know you’re out here now?”

As if Sakura had just realized the dangerous position she had put herself in, numbing fear slid down her spine. Her eyes flickered down the alley, but it was utterly empty. It was just the two of them. Only a single, lonely streetlight to cast a cool glow against the dark of the night.

Adrenaline flooded Sakura’s system like a shot of Epinephrine through an unresponsive patient’s body. She took a step back as she tried to yank her wrist out of Tobirama’s grasp, but his grip was iron-clad. He forcefully steered her backwards across the dim alley until the brick on the opposite wall bit into her shoulder blades.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked darkly. “I still owe you for what you did to my face. And there’s a long list of things I would love to do.”

In the semi-darkness, he caged her in, leaving no room for escape. She didn’t even have the space to shrink away from him. Even after all the danger Sakura had been in recently, nothing compared to now. She was undeniably alone with not even a weapon to defend herself. It was almost hard to believe that just on the other side of the wall where her back was currently pinned was an entire bar full of people. Full of safety.

In that instant, Sakura was transported back to the time all those months ago to when Tobirama had abducted her. She felt like that scared little girl again. All alone in a dark world she knew nothing about.

At least until a loud bang sounded nearby in the tight alley.

Immediately, the pair jerked their heads towards the unexpected commotion. It was nothing more than a cat knocking over a garbage can, but it was all the distraction Sakura needed.

In one fluid motion, she jammed the heel of her boot down onto the top of Tobirama’s foot before she forcefully shoved him back just enough to land a supported elbow to his sternum. She heard his hard exhale as she knocked the breath from him, but there was no time to feel victorious. She slipped out of his reach, quickly retreating back towards the backdoor of the bar.

There, Sakura paused as she eyed Tobirama. He coughed and placed a palm to his chest where she had struck him. She knew the blow had hurt, but it didn’t seem to have fazed him nearly as much as she had hoped. He inhaled slowly before he glared at her. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“That was your only warning,” she told him lowly as her fingers tightened on the door handle. “Next time, I won’t be so kind.”

The look he sent her chilled her to the bone. “This won’t be our last meeting. We’ll see each other again, little treasure. Soon.”

Sakura chose that moment to make her escape. She yanked the door open and quickly slipped back inside the crowded bar. To her relief, Ino was still seated at their table when she returned. This time, alone.

The blonde looked up from her phone upon Sakura’s approach before a frown crossed her lips. “You were gone awhile.”

“Uh, sorry,” Sakura said, reaching for her purse. She hoped Ino was too drunk to see how badly her hands were shaking. “I got a little sick. Drank too much.”

That caused the pout on Ino’s face to turn sympathetic. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said quickly. “But we should go home. Let’s call an Uber.”

Thankfully, Ino readily agreed. Her blonde friend was far more intoxicated than Sakura. After her encounter with Tobirama, Sakura felt stone-cold sober, but she still went through with finding them a ride home. She texted Asao, ordering him to follow their taxi to Ino’s. The last thing Sakura wanted was to leave her best friend to make her way home alone with Tobirama still on the prowl. Ino was too drunk to ask why Sakura rode with her back to her apartment, but she made sure the blonde got inside safely before Sakura finally collapsed into the passenger seat of her escort’s car.

Asao was obviously smart enough not to ask any questions. He merely drove her back to Madara’s in silence, each mile feeling longer than the last as Sakura wondered if she had just left her best friend in the clutches of the murderous, younger Senju brother.

It was well past midnight when Sakura arrived safely behind the gates of Madara’s protected property, but she couldn’t sleep. Instead, she sat alone at the island counter in the kitchen as stress clawed its way through her stomach until it physically pained her.

She didn’t know how long she sat there until she heard footsteps echo softly from down the hall. Just by the sound, she knew it wasn’t Madara and her eyes flickered towards the doorway a few seconds before Itachi rounded the corner. He was dressed in jeans and a hoodie, his long hair tied at the nape of his neck and away from his face. His eyes briefly lingered on her as he nodded his head in acknowledgement before he wandered to the far counter where a pot of coffee was still warm.

The room was quiet as he made his drink to his liking, but Sakura was far too preoccupied to notice the spoonfuls of sugar he dumped into his mug.

“You’re staring,” Itachi said, his back to her as he stirred his coffee.

Blinking, Sakura realized he was right, but she didn’t look away. She chewed her lower lip as he turned around, his brow arching expectantly when she continued to eye him. “I need a favor,” she finally said. When Itachi continued to simply gaze at her, her expression hardened minutely. “I’ve never asked you for anything.” _Even after she had stitched him up._

Sakura didn’t say the words, but they were loud and clear. Itachi seemed to consider that a moment as he drank his coffee before he inclined his head minutely. “What do you need?”

“My friend, Ino,” she explained. “The Senju are tailing her. She needs protection.”

To her dismay, a small frown crossed Itachi’s face. “We don’t have men just sitting around waiting to provide a security detail.”

“You did for me,” Sakura countered.

A small sigh pressed out of his nose. “You were…a special case.”

That should have warmed her, but now all it did was make her anxiety hungrier. “This is important, Itachi,” she told him, her voice as hard and unbending as steel.

The man across the kitchen seemed to study her for a long moment before he finally relented. “Fine, I’ll have one of my men keep an eye on her.”

“Your best man.”

“Shisui is my best man,” Itachi countered. Then he added after a moment, “But I’ll give you my second best.”

Sakura’s shoulders slumped in relief. She flashed him a small, but grateful smile as she held her emotions in check. Today had been an even longer and more exhausting day than she could have ever anticipated, but at least she had Itachi to help her with this one thing.

“Thank you,” she said.

Unsurprisingly, Itachi merely waved her off before he exited the kitchen and headed down the hall. She heard the start of a call to one of his men, likely giving the protection order, before his voice slowly faded.

Alone again, Sakura’s reassurance didn’t last long. Her encounter of Tobirama only renewed her fears and worries, but it was no longer her own safety that was in danger. She could only hope she hadn’t just signed her own best friend’s death certificate tonight.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to those of you who reviewed. I really appreciated it.
> 
> Special thanks to QueenAvocado13 and Nursebaymax who really inspired me to get this thing posted this week. In case you missed it, please be sure to check out the wonderful artwork by Nursebaymax (@emilyisnursebaymax on tumblr) of a delicious Mr. and Mrs. Smith style MadaSaku! Can these two be any hotter?? https://emilyisnursebaymax.tumblr.com/post/631269631177490432/show-chapter-archive
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! Much love <3


	14. Chapter 14

**_Chapter Fourteen_ **

Sunlight peeked through the curtains when Madara opened his eyes. A soft sigh escaped him and he stretched lightly only to find the bed beside him was empty. Reaching out, he slid his hand across the sheets where Sakura normally slept only to find they were cold. She had been gone for a while.

Picking his head up, Madara glanced at the clock to find it was mid-morning. He had crawled into bed beside Sakura only an hour or so before sunrise. He enjoyed the fact she was comfortable enough around him and within his home that she didn’t even stir as he curled himself around her. It seemed the same could be said for himself given the fact he hadn’t even woken when she had gotten up.

Rolling over onto his side, Madara reached for his phone where he had left it on the nightstand. To his relief, there were few messages for him. Only a couple of updates from his men on trades and transfers. Not that he had been expecting anything. The early hours after sunrise were always slow when it came to their kind of work, but it didn’t mean that business ever took a pause. He needed to call Izuna again.

After a quick shower, Madara pulled a simple dark navy suit from the closet. He blow-dried his hair and slipped on his shirt before he dialled his brother’s number, leaving his phone on the vanity on speakerphone so he had both hands free.

Izuna picked up on the third ring. “Are you really calling me again?” he answered.

His less than pleasant greeting caused Madara to frown. “Why does that surprise you?”

“Because we just talked last night,” his younger brother said, his tone somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Nothing’s changed in the last six hours. Hashirama is quiet, Tobirama is laying low and their cousin Tsunade seems to be keeping to herself. I already told you, I would call you the moment anything changed.”

“What about the suppliers Tobirama’s men were going to meet with?” Madara asked as he secured his cufflinks in place before he fastened his tie with practiced ease. “They were supposed to have a generous shipment brought in last night.”

“It didn’t happen,” Izuna told him to his surprise. “Itachi got intel that the Feds heard about the exchange and were surveying the area. Tobirama’s men must have gotten word early too since they scrubbed the warehouse before they abandoned it. The exchange never occurred.”

“So, something did happen then,” Madara said, his tone relaying his displeasure.

“You’re being ridiculous. Do you really want me to give you the play-by-play?” Izuna scoffed half-heartedly. When Madara remained silent, his younger brother continued, “Look, I know you want to temporarily take a step back, but that doesn’t mean we’re not tracking the Senju’s movements. We have more eyes on them than we’ve ever had before.”

“Not as many as I want,” Madara replied. He slipped his shoulder holster on and secured his gun under his arm before he reached for his suit jacket where it was hooked by the hanger on the edge of the vanity mirror. “I want to know everything. Who Tobirama comes in contact with, how his shipments are doing, who he’s interested in starting business with.”

“Is this because of Dr. Haruno?” Izuna asked skeptically. “You said Hashirama had approached her at the fundraiser. Why aren’t you more concerned about him?”

“Hashirama isn’t going to go after Sakura himself. He’s never been one to get his hands dirty directly,” Madara told his brother. “At least for now, Tobirama is still our biggest concern.”

“But you know Hashirama is going to be pulling strings in the background while we focus our attention on his brother.”

“I fully anticipate Hashirama will,” Madara agreed, “but Tobirama is far more reckless and he’s been quiet for long enough. He will move soon.”

On the other end, Izuna hummed. “Fair enough. Fine, I’ll have Itachi look into that shipment Tobirama missed yesterday. We’ll keep eyes on where it’s going in case they decide to go through with the exchange.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, I’m going to jump into the shower. Try not to call me in the next two minutes,” Izuna teased.

“Goodbye, Izuna,” Madara said flatly before he picked up his phone from the vanity and ended the call.

After slipping the device into the inner pocket of his suit, he collected his wallet and gave himself one last onceover in the mirror before he finally exited the bedroom. He descended the stairs to the first floor, nodding greetings at his staff as they completed their duties for the day.

Konan was alone in the kitchen when he arrived. The young chef was standing at the stove, frying some eggs in a pan, but she glanced up when she heard him enter. “Good morning. Can I make you any breakfast, sir?”

“No, thank you. I’m headed out now,” Madara declined politely as he pulled a traveler’s mug from the cabinet before he made his way to the coffeemaker. He filled it with his favorite brew and took a quick sip before he twisted the lid securely into place. “Is that for Sakura?” he asked.

Konan nodded. “Yes. She just walked out a few minutes ago. I’m sure she’s nearby if you’re looking for her.”

Actually, he was and Madara murmured his thanks before he left the kitchen in search of her.

Just as Konan predicted, Sakura wasn’t far. She was in the sitting room, standing at the bookcase against the far wall with one hand on her hip and the other holding her phone at her side as she eyed a row of medical texts. It was the first time he had noticed them and a warm, pleasant feeling settled in his chest at seeing her personal effects within his home.

For a moment, Madara simply watched her. Her hair was down and falling around her shoulders. She wore a crimson, long-sleeved shirt to fight off the chill in the new autumn air and a pair of jeans that hugged her hips and caused his eyes to linger a fraction longer. The outfit piqued his interest mildly. She looked like she was dressed for town. He then remembered that today was her day off.

“I missed you this morning,” Madara said.

At the sound of his voice, Sakura glanced over her shoulder before she flashed him a smile. “Sorry, I started thinking about something from last night and I got restless.”

Immediately his brows pinched together in worry. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing bad,” she quickly told him. “We just had a case come into the hospital last night. An impact trauma to the temporal bone and Neuro injuries aren’t really my area of expertise. Just got curious,” she half-shrugged,

Her answer drew a warm smile to Madara’s mouth. That was one thing he adored about her. Her insatiable curiosity.

Then Sakura eyed the mug in his hand. “Are you headed out?” she asked.

He nodded. “I have a few errands to run today, but I should be home at a reasonable time. Will you be home tonight?”

Sakura opened her mouth, but her phone chimed in her hand at that moment. She unlocked it and read the text a moment before she replied to him without looking up. “Yeah, there’s a couple of things I have to do in town, but I’ll be home this evening.”

“Good, I’ll make you dinner,” he said. “It’s been a while since we’ve eaten together.”

That made a genuine smile cross Sakura’s face and she briefly glanced at him to nod her agreement before her attention returned to her phone. “I’d like that.”

“I never did make you those seared pork chops.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” she said.

“With grilled asparagus and a bottle of wine.”

She made a vague noise of agreement, but Madara knew she wasn’t listening anymore. Her entire attention was focused on her phone.

“Or perhaps I’ll put you on the counter and just have you instead.”

“Whatever you want to do,” Sakura agreed. Then her fingers stilled as she processed what he said. She looked at him sharply. “Wait, what?”

Madara shot her a look that told her he knew she clearly wasn’t listening, but it was softened by the curl of affection in the corner of his mouth.

She smiled apologetically. “Uhm, sorry. I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

Concern immediately took the place of his amusement. He eyed her, noting that she did seem a little more tired than usual. He had thought it was her return to work or perhaps his insatiable thirst for her night after night, but he wondered now if it was something else.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

To his displeasure, a long sigh passed between Sakura’s lips. “Yes, but no.”

Madara wanted to press, but at that moment, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimed with the new hour. He glanced at it, confirming the time before he frowned as he realized he needed to get out the door. “I have to get going right now, but can we talk tonight?”

She drew a deep breath into her lungs and held it a moment before she released it all in one long exhale. “Yeah, that’s fine,” she agreed quietly.

Even with the time constraint fresh in his mind, Madara crossed the room to her. With their height difference, he had to bend down to press his mouth to hers. Her kiss wasn’t cold, but he could tell she was still distracted by whatever was on her mind.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

Setting his coffee mug aside, Madara cupped her face in both hands before he slipped his tongue into her mouth. A noise of surprise rose from the back of her throat before she melted against him, her fingers twisting into the collar of his suit as she kissed him back fully. That was better.

By the time he pulled away, the faint stirrings of his arousal were already beginning to draw south. Heat had darkened Sakura’s eyes and she stared up at him with half-lidded eyes. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her lips were already turning a deeper shade of pink from his attention. It took every ounce of his self-control not to drive her down onto the couch and have his way with her right there.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Madara murmured.

Her smile held promise. “Yes, you will.”

With one last lingering look, he collected his coffee before he made his way towards the front doors after ordering the staff to bring his car around. He paused on the front steps, the overcast morning washing everything into muted shades.

Madara pulled his phone from his pocket as he waited, intending to check his emails in the meantime when another car rolled to a stop in the driveway. It was Asao, Sakura’s escort. The man had been driving her around for months now and so far, he had been doing a remarkable job. A fact Madara had failed to acknowledge as of yet.

The boy was young, about twenty-four or so, but he had proven himself to be dependable and one of Madara’s most trustworthy subordinates over the course of the last few years. He was one of the only men to survive the night Sasuke had been killed. Asao had brought his nephew’s body back to them, even though the young man had suffered several of his own gunshot wounds. So far, Madara was more than pleased with his performance of escorting Sakura. He made a mental note to give the boy a generous gift his next paycheck.

“Asao,” Madara called as the younger man climbed out of his car.

At the sound of his name, Asao looked up, only to stand a little straighter when he saw Madara standing there. Quickly, he ascended the stairs before he bowed in greeting. “Good morning, sir.”

“You’ve been driving Sakura for a while now. How are things going? Any trouble?” he asked.

Asao was quick to shake his head. “No, sir. None at all. I haven’t had any sightings of Tobirama or Hashirama. Dr. Haruno just needs me to run her on a couple of errands and to the hospital today.”

That stirred Madara curiosity, but he kept his expression neutral as he said, “Today is her day off.”

“It is,” Asao readily agreed, “but she said she forgot something there and it’s a close drive to the mall. She wanted to pick something up for one of her friends.”

“Did she now,” Madara murmured thoughtfully. Then he ordered, “Do me a favor and keep me advised today. Let me know when she returns home.”

Vague interest flickered across Asao’s expression, but he schooled it quickly before he bowed his head. “Of course, sir.”

Madara’s car arrived then. He took one step down the stairs towards it, only to pause as he half-turned back towards his subordinate. “And Asao, you’ve done well lately. Don’t think your efforts have gone unnoticed.”

This time, the younger man wasn’t able to keep the surprise off his face, but it was rapidly replaced with a smile as he nodded his head gratefully. “Thank you, sir.”

Madara lingered for only a moment more before he turned back to his awaiting car and drove the long road into the city.

xx

“Thanks for driving me today,” Sakura said not for the first time.

From the driver’s seat, Asao briefly flickered a glance in her direction. “You don’t have to thank me every time I take you somewhere, but you’re welcome, Dr. Haruno.”

His formality caused Sakura to smile fondly and she turned her eyes from the forest outside to peer at him. “How many times must I ask you to call me Sakura?”

“My apologies. Old habits,” he said, a faint smile gracing his own lips. Then he added, “Sakura.”

The use of her name made her smile widen. When Madara had first suggested an escort all those months ago, she had been a bit hesitant about having a stranger follow her around day in and day out, but Asao had shown himself to be quite friendly and amicable. Madara had selected her escort well.

With her smile still on her face, Sakura turned her gaze back out the window as they passed over the river just before the highway. It was the one they drove over every day to and from the city. During the summer, it was only a few feet deep but with the rainfall in the mountains from the autumn storms, it rushed with rapids. It really was a stunning sight and Sakura watched the water surge downstream as they drove over the bridge. 

“How are Ino’s birthday plans coming?” Asao asked politely.

Pulling her phone from her jacket, Sakura unlocked the screen before she pulled up her to-do list. “Good, mostly,” Sakura answered. “I accidentally left Ino’s gift in my locker at work and I still need to get some of the party supplies and all the booze, but everyone has confirmed they’ll be there.”

“Even Naruto?”

Sakura couldn’t suppress her sigh. “Okay, everyone but Naruto. But he usually doesn’t remember these things until the day before,” she said.

There was a small smile of amusement on Asao’s lips when she glanced at him. He had heard her woes of Naruto’s forgetfulness before so he understood her exasperation. 

They rode the rest of the way to the hospital in comfortable silence with nothing more than the radio on for background noise. When Asao rolled to a stop out front, Sakura quickly unfastened her seatbelt and grabbed her phone and hospital badge before she opened her door.

“I’ll be quick. I just need to grab Ino’s gift,” she told him before she shut the passenger door and headed into the hospital.

Catching the elevator, Sakura hurried into the attendings’ lounge. She effortlessly spun the lock on her cubby and searched through her fresh socks and underwear until she found what she was looking for: Ino’s birthday card. Sakura had bought it before work yesterday with the intention of giving it to her best friend that weekend when they celebrated her birthday, but after working an eighteen-hour shift the day before, Sakura had accidentally forgotten it in her locker. The only thing that had been on her mind last night was getting home and getting to bed.

Slipping the card open, Sakura made sure it still had the certificate inside. She couldn’t wait to see Ino’s face when she saw Sakura had gotten her a makeup lesson with Sai. He was the city’s version of a Hollywood Star when it came to all things hair and makeup. Her best friend was going to lose her mind. And hopefully forgive Sakura for being so absent lately.

Ensuring she didn’t wrinkle the envelope, Sakura slipped the gift into the inner pocket of her jacket before she shut her locker and secured it again. She retraced her steps back down the hall and to the elevator and made to push the call button when a familiar arm snaked around her shoulders.

“First, you avoid the hospital and now, you just can’t stay away.”

A smile automatically crossed her face as she looked up at Naruto. “What can I say? I’m drawn to all the blood and gore.”

“Yeah, but we already knew that,” Naruto returned.

Her smile widened before the blond released her. She eyed him briefly when he stepped back, noting his dark blue scrubs and doctor’s coat. “I thought you were supposed to be off today too?”

“I was,” he nodded. “But then I got called in. One of my Pediatric cases crashed and I figured since I was already here, I might as well stay.”

“Because you enjoy all the blood and gore?” she retorted, drawing a bubble of laughter from Naruto. “You didn’t want to spend today with Hinata?”

He simply shrugged a shoulder. “She’s working today too.”

“Oh,” Sakura said noncommittally. Then a thought crossed her mind. “Hey, you two are going to Ino’s birthday party in a few days, right?”

“Ino’s birthday party is in a few days?”

His question made her groan. “Naruto, I’ve been reminding you of this all week. How could you have forgotten already?”

“Oh yeah,” he replied as if a sudden lightbulb went off in his head. “You know, even if I do forget, Hinata will make sure to get me there. I swear that woman saves my skin all the time.”

The frown on Sakura’s face gave way to a smile. Still, she couldn’t resist shaking her head good-naturedly as she finally reached over to hit the call button for the elevator. “It’s a good thing she puts up with you. You’d forget your shirt if you were left to take care of yourself.”

“I take offence to that,” Naruto disagreed. “I would never forget my shirt. My pants on the other hand…”

Sakura let out a laugh just as Naruto’s pager went off. He unclipped it from his waist and quickly read the message before he took a single step back. “Hey, I have to get this,” he said as the familiar ding of the elevator sounded, signaling its arrival.

She glanced up at the arrows above the lift and confirmed they were going down before she took a backwards step into the elevator. “Go,” she urged him. “I’ll talk to you later, dork.”

With one last grin, Naruto took off down the hall in a half-run. She watched him round the corner before she finally turned around. Only to find herself face-to-face with Hashirama.

Their eyes met at the same moment. Unreadable brown against startled jade. Like a block of ice, Sakura’s heart dropped into her stomach as she remained frozen in place for one second and then another. Then she shook herself out of her stupor.

Spinning on her heels, Sakura intended to make her escape, only for the elevator doors to slide closed before she could exit. It felt more like a tomb sealing shut.

Swallowing, she stood paralyzed as the gears of the lift whirled to life. She stared at the blurry reflection in the doors, her muscles tensed as she waited for Hashirama to make his move. The gun strapped to her waist under her jacket suddenly felt like it weighed a ton, but she found herself unable to reach for it. Her muscles had frozen solid and her joints had turned to stone. She was certain Hashirama would undoubtedly pounce on her before she could even take aim regardless.

The silence was utterly deafening, the quiet only broken up by the steady beep of the lift as it counted down the floors. An entire lifetime passed by the time they reached the ground floor. The instant the doors slid open, the hustle of hospital life rushed back into her ears. Sharp relief flooded her system, leaving her knees weak.

She was safe.

“Enjoy the rest of your day, Dr. Haruno,” Hashirama said pleasantly. Then he added as he slipped past her, “And I hope you enjoy yourself at Ino’s birthday party this weekend.”

Sakura cut her eyes up to the mob boss, but he was already walking away. She knew for a fact he hadn’t overheard her conversation with Naruto, which only made his comment worse. A cold chill went down her spine.  _ How did he know? _

The terrible memory of Tobirama standing with her best friend at the bar flickered through Sakura’s mind. Had Ino told Tobirama about the party? Had she  _ invited _ him? A wave of nausea went through her, but she forced herself to swallow it down as Hashirama strolled away down the hall.

In the next instant, before the elevator doors could close again, Sakura compelled herself forward. She broke out into a half-run to catch up with him, forcing him to an abrupt stop as she cut him off. “Call Tobirama off.”

Hashirama stared down at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“Call. Tobirama. Off,” Sakura demanded slowly, her voice low but hard.

The mobster stood a good few inches taller than her, but it might as well have been a few feet with how small Sakura suddenly felt standing before him. He dipped his chin to meet her gaze, his brown eyes unreadable as what looked like the slightest of frowns crossed his face. It was gone before Sakura could gauge his expression. “What my brother does in his spare time is up to his own discretion.”

“But you have the authority to command him to stop,” she pressed.

Hashirama inclined his head minutely. “I do, but so long as he completes my orders, I have no reason to get involved in his other interests,” he said as if they were merely talking about an annoying habit of Tobirama’s and not the life of her best friend.

Red hot anger seared through her chest. “This isn’t just about petty revenge, Hashirama. This is the life of my friends and family.”

“And I respect your loyalty, but this is not my fight,” he said before he made to step around her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there is a meeting I must attend.”

Before Sakura could consider the consequences, her hand snapped out. She seized the collar of Hashirama’s suit just above the first button, effectively halting his retreat. Beside them, a pair of nurses passed, but the young men didn’t spare them at glance, too caught up in their own conversation.

“Except it is your fight,” Sakura countered in a steely voice, her eyes never once wavered from Hashirama. “You made yourself involved the instant you approached me at the fundraiser.”

Beneath her hand, Hashirama went still. A chill of warning went down her spine at the way he looked down upon her, as if she were a particular interesting piece of art he was considering worth his money or not. His penetrating stare nearly made her flinch, but she firmly stood her ground even as he slowly reached up to wrap his fingers around her wrist. Like he was cradling a butterfly, his grip was startlingly gentle as he carefully pried her fingers from his suit.

Sakura released him immediately, but Hashirama didn’t let her go yet. Instead, his thumb delicately swept over the pulse point on her wrist. She was sure he could feel the blood pounding through her veins, but his expression was amiable, almost tender.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he agreed softly. Then he nodded, “Very well, I will do you this favor and speak with Tobirama. For now, I’m afraid we must part ways.”

Then he released her.

Sakura could only stare dumbfounded as Hashirama walked away. She had no idea what had just happened. Had she just unintentionally struck a deal with the head of the Senju family? She hadn’t meant her words to come off that way. She had only wanted to protect Ino. The thought of what owing a favor to Hashirama might mean made her stomach twist into sharp knots, but it was too late now. Hashirama was already gone. The deed was done.

Sakura was still feeling sick to her stomach when she finally exited the hospital and sunk down into the passenger seat of her escort’s car.

“Did you get what you needed?” Asao asked.

She blinked as she forced herself to look at the younger man. “What? Oh, uhm yeah, I did.”

He eyed her for a moment but fortunately he knew not to ask. Instead, he turned the car back out onto the main road to take her to finish her errands.

It was hard to focus after her conversation with Hashirama, but Sakura forced herself to go about collecting the things she would need for Ino’s party. She wanted her best friend’s party to be the biggest blowout of the year. Sakura wasn’t entirely sure why, but it felt important. More important than it had ever been before. Like somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew something was about to happen. That this might be her last chance to do something like this for Ino.

It was just before sunset when Sakura finally called it a night. She still needed to buy the alcohol and mixers, but she was too mentally exhausted after her interaction with Hashirama to do any more. She could do that tomorrow after work. Besides, she still had plans to have dinner with Madara tonight. And she knew that conversation was going to take some energy. Especially after she told Madara about her latest encounter with Hashirama. He was not going to be happy.

“Where next?” Asao asked after Sakura had dropped her shopping bags in the trunk and slipped inside the car again.

She shook her head. “Just home.”

“Home it is,” he said before he pulled out of the parking lot and steered them towards the highway.

Normally, Sakura made small talk with Asao as they drove, but today she couldn’t find it within herself. Instead, she dug her phone out of her pocket and checked her notifications, only to find a message from Ino. Her best friend was demanding that they go out to the club for her birthday since it fell on a Friday that year.

For the first time since that morning, a real smile crossed Sakura’s face as she shot back a lie that she was working. She wanted to keep Ino in the dark. She wanted to see the excitement light up her best friend’s face when she realized everyone had been lying to her about having other plans.

Just as she expected, Ino replied with the whiniest, most playfully manipulative text she had written in a longtime.  _ You don’t love me anymore. You might as well marry your job because you’re so obsessed with it. _

_ Oh, don’t be that way, _ Sakura replied.  _ We’ll do something fun on Saturday. _

_ But Saturday isn’t my birthday. _

_ It’s only one day afterward. _

There was a few minutes of pause before Ino finally relented.  _ Fine. But we’re doing mimosas at brunch to start. _

_ Deal, _ Sakura replied, her smile widening.

They texted a little longer as she made plans with Ino for that coming Saturday that Sakura knew would never happen. Ino would be happily partied out the day before if Sakura had anything to say about it.

However, all those blissful feelings went out the window the instant Asao shut off the radio. It had been something nice to listen to in the background, but the abrupt silence was suddenly deafening. “We have a problem,” he said.

Looking up from her phone, Sakura glanced over at him to find his eyes were directed on the rearview mirror. His face was hard and his shoulders tense. His demeanor caused her light mood to vanish like dew in the summer heat.

“What is it?” she asked.

“We’re being followed.”

Darkening the screen of her phone, Sakura tucked the device into her pocket as she leaned forward to look in the side mirror.

“That BMW has been following us since we got on the highway,” Asao told her.

Sure enough, there was a silver BMW behind them. The rims were polished and the paint waxed, but the windows were tinted, making it impossible to tell who the driver was.

“Are you sure it’s not just coincidence?” Sakura asked.

He shook his head. “I’ve gotten on and off two separate exits. They’re following us.”

That made Sakura swallow uneasily. “Maybe it’s just one of Madara’s men,” she offered, already knowing it wasn’t.

Asao was quick to shoot the idea down. “That’s not one of our cars.”

Sakura was quiet a moment as she watched the BMW behind them slip around cars easily. Trailing them without getting too close, but also never getting too far.

_ ‘This won’t be our last meeting. We’ll see each other again, little treasure. Soon.’ _

Tobirama’s words floated through Sakura’s mind and dread like nothing she had ever felt before settled over her. It sank deep into her soul, weighing it down and dragging it into the dark depths. She was no longer bewildered by who might be in the car tailing them.

“It’s Tobirama,” Sakura said with the utmost certainty.

Beside her, Asao glanced in her direction. He eyed her for one long moment as if trying to comprehend how she was so certain, but he didn’t ask. Instead, a look of determination settled over his features. Then he hit the gas.

The sudden boost in speed caused Sakura to sink back into her seat. Asao navigated the highway with practiced control, zipping around cars and semis, but no matter how tightly he squeezed between the other vehicles that BMW was still on their tail. Never getting any further away. Nor closer.

With shaking hands, Sakura withdrew her gun. She double-checked it was functioning correctly and ready for use at a moment’s notice. She knew Tobirama was toying with them. He had them cornered. Like a game of cat and mouse. He was just waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

But she couldn’t do anything with her nerves such a mess.

Steeling herself, Sakura tightened her grip on her weapon. She might only have one chance and she was not going to miss again.

Directing her gaze back out the window, Sakura tracked the movements of the silver BMW through the side mirror. Asao steered them off the highway, taking the right turn at the bottom of the hill towards Madara’s property faster than was safe. The back end of their car fishtailed, but he smoothly corrected them before he sped off down the narrowing road.

Above them, the sun had already dipped below the high trees. There were few streetlights down this road as they left the city and navigated into the more secluded outskirts of town. Only their headlights cut through the darkening night.

“We should call Madara,” Asao suddenly said. “Let him know what’s happening. He might be able to send someone out to meet us.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Sakura agreed.

She unzipped her jacket and reached inside for her phone with the hand not holding her gun, but before she could grab it, Asao lurched the car to the side, rounding a sharp bend in the road. “Shit, hold on,” he warned sharply.

Confused, Sakura peered in the mirror again only to find Tobirama was now right behind them. Asao tried to outrun and outmaneuver him, but Tobirama’s car was faster, sportier. It was made for this type of handling, and it kept pace with them easily before he began to overtake them.

“Damnit,” Asao cursed under his breath when he failed to drive Tobirama onto the shoulder and off the road. He hugged the next corner, taking it tightly in the oncoming lane to keep Tobirama from passing, but he merely backed off before he quickly came up on the passenger side.

With wide eyes, Sakura whipped her head around just as the BMW rolled down their window. And behind the wheel sat none other than Tobirama.

There was a cruel smile on his face, but she only caught a glimpse of it before he stuck his gun out the window. Her heart dropped into her stomach and for a moment that lasted a lifetime, all Sakura could see was the barrel of that weapon.

Then Asao yelled, “Get down!”

In the next instant, Sakura was shoved down towards the floor. Glass exploded around them as the crack of gunfire filled the air. Automatically she threw her hands over her head to protect herself as a scream tore out of her throat, but it was drowned out by the screech of tires as they were abruptly sent spinning.

Sakura didn’t know which way was up or down. Her entire world was chaos until there was a deafening crunch of metal-on-metal before she was unexpectedly thrown airborne.

Then there was nothing.

It was only when Sakura opened her eyes that she realized she had blacked out. She didn’t know if it had been for a second or an hour. All she knew was there was a ringing in her ears and a deep ache in her jaw.

Wincing, she pushed herself off the cushion she was laying on, only to realize a moment later it was the airbag. It must have deployed at some point during the crash.

Closing her eyes, Sakura took a moment to catch her breath, only for her brows to furrow when she realized her feet were cold but more confusingly, wet. Quickly she blinked her eyes into focus and looked down to find there was water flooding the floor of the car.

Confused, she glanced out the window. Through the twilight, she could just make out the river that ran through the outskirts of the city. The currents washed around them, slowly swallowing up their car like a tar pit. Already, the water was to her calves and ever slowly rising still. They needed to get out.

“Aaso, we have to go!” Sakura said as she fumbled with the buckle of her seatbelt. “The car–”

She cut off the instant she looked over at her escort. He was hunched over the steering wheel, unconscious and unmoving.

“Asao!” she called again. She shoved her seatbelt out of the way and braced herself against the dashboard and center console until she could reach him. “Asao, can you hear me? You need to wake up.”

He didn’t respond, not even when she touched his shoulder. Automatically her fingers went to his neck only for her to choke on a sob when she didn’t feel a pulse.

“Asao,” she tried again, her voice turning frantic. “Please don’t be dead. Asao!”

When he didn’t move, Sakura cupped his jaw and lifted his head. The doctor in her immediately zoomed in on the left side of his skull. It was crushed from obvious trauma and gushing blood and what she knew to be brain matter, but it didn’t stop her from shaking him again.

“Please wake up. You have to wake up.”

He didn’t stir, but the screech of tires caused Sakura’s head to snap around until she was looking through the back window and up at the bridge. Above them, Tobirama’s silver BMW came to an abrupt halt. He must have crossed the bridge and doubled back to check his handiwork.  _ To ensure they hadn’t survived. _

Turning back to Asao, Sakura shook him again. “Asao, please,” she pleaded desperately.

But there was no answer. His eyes remained closed and his chest still.

With a muffled sob, Sakura released him. Already the river water was up to her waist and threatening to climb higher. She knew she needed to get out now or be swallowed along with the car beneath the icy surface of the water.

It tore her heart out, but she forced herself to turn away from Asao. With one foot on the dashboard, she wiggled her way out of the shattered window on the passenger side. A piece of glass caught on her jacket, but she jerked herself free until she was submerged in the frigid mountain water. The ice stole the breath from her lungs and the current tugged at her, but she held onto the door of the car, casting one last glance at Asao.

Then she heard a car door slam closed above her.

Snapping her gaze upwards, Sakura looked up just as Tobirama rounded the front of his car. His headlights lit up his tall stature and she knew he couldn’t see her in the darkness yet, but the instant his eyes adjusted and he began to search, he would.

In a split-second decision, Sakura took one, deep breath before she plunged beneath the bitter current.

Ice like nothing she had ever felt before filled Sakura’s veins. It sucked the warmth from her body and set her skin on fire like thousands upon thousands of pins were piercing into her at the same time. Her body screamed for relief and in that moment, she didn’t know which was worse: laying in that icy river or letting Tobirama shoot her and end her life once and for all.

Still, she fought to keep herself under until she physically couldn’t anymore. The instant her head broke the surface, she gasped for air, her breath white against the crisp night. She was so cold she didn’t have any control of her body as her system began to shut down into survival mode.

The edge of the river was lined with rounded rocks between mushy moss. Neither looked very easy to climb and in her weakened state, she was certain she couldn’t be able to climb up the bank. Until she spotted a long root from an old tree.

Gathering her remaining strength, Sakura propelled herself towards it, grasping the gritty root with frozen fingers before she dared look back. From her vantage point, she could just make out the bridge. Tobirama was standing at the guardrail, looking down upon the wreckage he had created as her car sunk deeper and deeper beneath the water. There was nothing more than a small section of roof still showing above the surface and Sakura witnessed with tears in her eyes as the last bit of it disappeared beneath the raging river.

Flickering her eyes back to the bridge, Sakura watched Tobirama observe the river for a moment more before he eventually turned away and slipped back into his car. Then he drove away.

Using the last of her strength, Sakura used the tree root to drag herself up onto the dirty undergrowth of the forest floor. Her clothes were soaked through and her hair stuck to her neck and her skin was icy, but it felt like nothing compared to the hole in her chest. She was on the verge of hypothermia, but all she could think about was Asao.

This time, she was unable to stop her tears from pouring out. Her sobs were drowned out by the rush of rapids and she wrapped her arms around herself as she grieved for the man that had given his life for her. She would never forget his name.

Sakura wasn’t sure how long she sat there crying and shivering, but eventually she forced herself to take a calming breath before she reached into her pocket with numb fingers and withdrew her phone. Unsurprisingly it was dead. Destroyed by the river water.

She was still some miles from Madara’s. Too far to walk, especially in her current condition. However, there was a gas station back towards the city not too far away. She would be going the same direction as Tobirama, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. Either she died here or she made the hike back towards town. And she was not going to let Asao’s sacrifice be in vain.

With that decided, Sakura pushed herself to her feet before she began the exhausting walk towards the city.

xx

It took Sakura nearly an hour, but eventually the familiar sign for the gas station came into view. Her body was mostly frozen, her arms and legs stiff, but she forced herself forward, one step at a time. Nearly a dozen cars had driven by in her walk, but each time she had ducked into the trees lining the highway lest any were Tobirama.

Sakura approached the parking lot carefully, her entire being on high alert for that silver BMW. She didn’t see it, but she was prepared to duck back behind the building the instant she saw any trace of it. There were only a couple of cars filling up on fuel now. A minivan with a family and a sporty looking car with a younger guy leaning against it. However, it was the taxi cab that caught her notice.

The driver was an older gentleman in a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt, the uniform all cab drivers wore in the city. He was at a stall further away from the rest and Sakura quickly crossed the lot until she stood on the other side of his car.

“How much to take me to the city?” Sakura asked. Her teeth chattered and she steeled her aching jaw.

The man looked up from the pump, surprise flickering across his face only to be replaced with mild judgement as he eyed her. Her clothes were still wet and clinging to her skin, and her damp hair was slowly drying around her face. She knew she looked like hell. She felt like she had just been dragged through it, but this was her only chance.

“Sorry, missy,” he frowned. “I’m not on the clock anymore.”

“I’ll pay you whatever,” she pressed desperately. “And I’ll give you double if you pretend you never saw me.”

That caught his attention. He was quiet for a long moment before he glanced around to see if anyone was watching. When he saw it was only them, he observed her again. “Show me the money first.”

Reaching into the inner pocket of her jacket, Sakura felt around for her wallet. Fortunately, it had stayed in her pocket through the crash and she withdrew it to dig out the money she had taken from the bank earlier that day. Plenty to cover a cost into the city and then some.

The taxi driver stared at it before he jerked his chin towards his back door. “Get in.”

Sakura did without hesitation.

Inside, the cab was warm. The heat slowly seeped into the iciness of her skin, just enough to fight off the bite of cold clinging to her bones but not nearly enough to warm her up. With her adrenaline and the cold slowly slipping away, more aches were beginning to become more apparent. Her left knee was throbbing and her side stung. Her jaw ached more fiercely and she was sure her skin would be littered with bruises tomorrow.

What the hell happened?

Her mind went back to that night in the alley behind the bar, to Tobirama’s dark promise to see her again soon. He had done well on that. However, it only made anger bubble deep within her chest. Hashirama had given his word only that day he would speak to his brother. Had those words been an order to take her out? Or had Tobirama defied him? And what about Ino?

_ What about Ino? _

In an instant, that simmering rage chilled and froze over. Sakura hadn’t really given the taxi driver an address to take her to. She had figured she would go to the hospital to shower and change, but now all her thoughts turned to her best friend. Ino lived on the north end of town. Directly in Tobirama’s territory.

Itachi had promised a security detail on her, but Sakura had had one too until only an hour ago. And now he was lying dead at the bottom of the river. Fear seized her.

“Take me to Lower Hill on the north side,” Sakura suddenly said as they finally entered the city.

The cab driver peered at her in the rearview mirror, but he said nothing as he turned right down the next street to take her to the location.

It took them another twenty minutes to arrive at Ino’s apartment complex. In the meantime, Sakura’s adrenaline had returned as anxiety made her physically sick with worry. What if Tobirama had gotten to Ino first? What if he had her?

These questions whirled around in Sakura’s head until they reached Ino’s apartment building. She didn’t say another word to the driver, merely tossed him enough bills to cover her ride plus a generous tip before she sprinted inside the building, ignoring the pain in her bruised knee. She caught the elevator up to Ino’s floor, repeatedly pressing the button as if that would make the lift move faster, before she slipped out of the door before they were fully open.

Fortunately, the hall was empty and she raced down the carpeted floor until she reached the last apartment on the right. At the door, Sakura banged and banged, her apprehension growing when there was no answer.

Then the deadbolt slid out of place.

A moment later, Ino opened the door. The blonde stood in a pair of jeans and a pale pink cardigan over a flowing tank top. Her expression was mildly irritated only to shift to confusion when she saw Sakura in her disheveled state. “Sakura, what the hell? Are you trying to knock my door down?”

Sakura didn’t bother with an apology as her gaze flickered over Ino’s shoulder. “Please tell me you’re alone.”

“Rude, but yes, I am. What’s going on?” Ino asked. Then she eyed her. “My god, you’re soaking wet. What happened? Are you alright?”

Sakura didn’t immediately reply as she stepped into her friend’s apartment, securely locking the door behind her. When she turned around, she found Ino hadn’t moved, only now she was standing with her arms crossed over her chest and her head cocked to the side.

“That guy, Tobirama, have you seen him lately?” Sakura asked quickly.

If possible, Ino only seemed more puzzled. “Tobirama? Who is Tobirama? Wait…was that the guy from the bar last week? No, I haven’t seen him.” Then she paused. “Hold on, how do you know him? You weren’t there for that.”

Sakura ignored her question. “You’re absolutely certain?” she pressed.

“Yes, I’m certain,” Ino said defensively before her eyes narrowed. “Okay, you’ve been really weird for months now, but this is crossing a line. What the hell is up with you lately?”

Relief caused Sakura to sag and she slumped backwards until her back hit the door. She was exhausted down to her very soul. Her bones were weary and her knees felt like jello, and for a moment, she was tempted to slide down the door until she could rest on the floor, but she couldn’t yet. Her body would have to ensure a little more. 

“It’s a long story,” Sakura began slowly.

However, Ino was unmoving. “I have time.”

Like the calm before the storm, a sense of impending tragedy settled over Sakura. This was it, she realized. This was the moment she had been dreading for months. The moment when she would rip the ground right out from under her best friend’s feet. Things were becoming too chaotic, too dangerous. Not only was Sakura’s life on the line, but Ino’s was too. They were both being hunted in this cold, mafia world. Sakura couldn’t keep her safely in the dark any longer.

Opening her mouth, Sakura prepared herself to explain everything. All of her distancing and absence from Ino’s life in the previous months. Her secrecy and lies.

Only before she could begin, there was a sharp knock behind her.

Startled, Sakura jumped away before she turned to look at it, her heart beating against her ribs. “Were you expecting someone tonight?” she whispered.

There was a frown on Ino’s face when Sakura’s eyes flickered back to her friend. “No,” she shook her head. “I was going to do paperwork tonight.”

A chill went down Sakura’s spine and she gestured for Ino to remain quiet with a finger to her lips before she faced the door again. With the blood rushing in her ears, Sakura peeked through the spyglass to find none other than Tobirama on the other side of the door.

As if burned, Sakura jerked back. Her mind filled with the memory of him standing on the bridge looking down at their sinking car like a cruel, hate-filled god. She didn’t know what interest he had in Ino now that he was under the assumption Sakura was dead, but she knew she had to get them out of here.

Her first thought was Itachi’s protection detail, but if Tobirama was here, then Sakura could only assume he was dead as well. They were on their own.

Reaching for her gun, Sakura slipped her hand into her jacket only to still when she felt an empty holster. Her mind recalled the memory of withdrawing it in the car. Before they crashed into the river. She must have dropped it in the accident. There had been too many other things on her mind at the time. Her weapon was likely lying at the bottom of the river, right beside Asao.

Ino must have read Sakura’s expression for her voice was barely a whisper when she asked, “Who is it?”

There was a look of concern that bordered on real fear in Ino’s face. Sakura knew there could be no more lies if they were to make it out of this alive.

“Tobirama,” Sakura answered.

“Tobirama?” Ino repeated, their voices still nothing more than whispers. “How does he know where I live?”

“He’s been following you.”

Ino’s face paled. She liked to play around, but she was a smart girl. She knew the dangers of men. “But–”

Ino’s words were cut off by another knock at the door, this time louder. Sakura held up a hand to keep Ino quiet. She needed a moment to think.

“Tell him you need a minute,” Sakura said.

Ino was visibly shaking, but she cleared her throat and shouted, “Just a second!” before she turned back to Sakura expectantly.

“Where is your car exactly?” Sakura asked.

“On the street. Third one from the intersection.”

“Okay,” she said slowly as a vague idea of a plan began to form in her mind. “You have ten seconds to grab what you need. And then we’re out of here.”

Ino hesitated. “Sakura, you’re scaring me.”

“I know and I promise I will explain everything later, but right now, you need to do everything I say,” Sakura said as calmly as she could. “Do you understand?”

The seriousness of the situation must have dawned on Ino for she nodded solemnly before she spun on her heels and sprinted back towards her room. In the meantime, Sakura silently slipped into the kitchen. She eyed the counters until her gaze landed on the knife block sitting near the stove. She sorted through them, finding a long but skinny blade that would fit comfortably in her hand.

When she returned to the hallway, Ino was just entering as well. Her friend had a pair of shoes and a jacket on now. Nothing too fancy, just something comfortable. Ino eyed the knife in her hand, but she didn’t do anything more than swallow thickly before she nodded, signaling she was ready.

Steeling herself, Sakura took one deep breath as she faced the door. Then she unbolted the lock and flung it open.

On the other side, Tobirama was leaning his forearm against the door frame. He looked up with a charming smile. Only for it to drop the instant he saw Sakura standing there. Confusion flickered across his face before it transformed into rage. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Sakura glared back at him. “Guess you’re just not as good of a shot as you think you are,” she spat back.

In an instant, Tobirama reached behind his back, grasping for the weapon that was undoubtedly hidden there. Sakura didn’t give him the chance to use it though. She threw herself at him, causing them both to tumble to the floor. She landed on top of him and raised the blade in her hand to swipe at his neck, only for Tobirama to block it. 

The blade caught his wrist, slashing deep into his skin and sending blood splattering onto the carpet. A growl of pain and anger ripped through his chest before he kicked Sakura off of him, slamming her into the wall hard enough that she dropped her knife. The blunt force aggravated her already aching body, but Shisui had trained her on taking a hard hit and she rolled back onto her feet with practice just as Tobirama reached for his abandoned gun where he had dropped it during her attack.

Sakura’s only concern was of protecting Ino, and with adrenaline assisting her, Sakura seized her knife again before she jumped on Tobirama’s back just as his fingers wrapped around the hilt. The weapon discharged, drawing a frightened scream from Ino, but Sakura’s attention didn’t waver from the gangster below her. He might have been well practiced in a gun, but she had been training with knives for years.

Raising her blade, Sakura stabbed downwards, recognizing the instant her blade sliced through flesh. She had done it hundreds of times before in her line of work, but no time had ever given her such satisfaction. Cruel pleasure twisted inside her upon hearing Tobirama’s true, unbridled bellow of pain.

However, that feeling only lasted a moment.

In the next second, Tobirama ripped the blade where it had embedded into the delicate tendons of the inside of his shoulder before he grabbed her and hauled her over his shoulder. Pain exploded in her back as she was slammed onto the ground, knocking the breath out of her. She had no chance of recovering before Tobirama was on top of her, his hand wrapped around her neck as he loomed over her.

“You fucking bitch,” he hissed.

Never in her life had Sakura ever seen anyone so enraged. He was downright furious. Even without the pummeling she had just taken or his fingers around her throat, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to breathe. Blood gushed from the wounds on his arm as he pinned his injured arm to his side, but it wasn’t enough to stop his grip from tightening. If anything, the pain only fueled his hatred.

“When I’m done with you, you’re going to wish you were dead,” he promised darkly.

Already, Sakura could feel herself becoming lightheaded with lack of air. She tried to kick him, but with him straddling her hips, it was useless. He didn’t even seem to feel her nails digging into his wrist as she clawed at him. She was utterly helpless.

Gasping breathlessly, Sakura felt her world start to fade as the edges of her vision darkened. Her struggles grew weaker and weaker, and just when she thought she was about to pass out, Tobirama suddenly flinched and released her.

With a choking cough, Sakura rolled over onto her side as she gasped for breath. Oxygen rushed into her lungs, clearing her vision and bringing everything into focus again.

“Come on, Sakura, let’s go!” Ino shouted as the blonde tugged on her arm sharply.

Blinking, Sakura looked up to find Ino standing over her. Against the wall, Tobirama was grasping his bloody nose. It took Sakura only a moment to realize what had happened. Ino had kicked him in the face. It was bold and such Ino fashion.

“Come on!” Ino snapped again.

Shaking herself, Sakura let the blonde help her to her feet. Ino was quick to take off down the hall, but Sakura lingered just long enough to snatch Tobirama’s gun from the ground before she limped after her.

Together, the women sprinted towards the exit. They skipped the elevator, instead taking the stairs in the center of the complex until they reached the ground floor. Sakura didn’t know how far Tobirama was behind them, but she didn’t dare look back. Not even when they burst out onto the street.

By now, the sun was well below the horizon, only the streetlights cast light against the darkness. Just as Ino had said, her car was parked by the intersection. And only two cars behind hers was a silver BMW.

At first, they dashed past it, but then a scenario came to Sakura’s mind. Of Tobirama chasing them down. Of a gun aimed at their heads. Of their car sent careening off the bridge into the river to join Asao. Slowing to a stop, Sakura gazed back at the BMW.

“Sakura, what are you doing? My car is here!” Ino shouted, frantically.

Sakura didn’t immediately respond. Instead, she glanced both ways down the street to see there was a break in traffic before she looked down at the gun in her hand again. Then her grip tightened.

Raising the barrel, she unlocked two bullets, one round into each tire on the driver’s side of Tobirama’s car. They deflated immediately.

Once Sakura was sure he wouldn’t be going anywhere fast, she turned to catch up with Ino. She slid into the driver’s seat, plucking the keychain from Ino’s shaking hands before she jammed the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life before the tires screeched behind them as Sakura hit the gas. They shot out into traffic like a bullet. She didn’t slow down even after Ino’s apartment complex had shrunk into the distance.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is. The long awaited Chapter 14. Sorry about the delay. Life got....lifey. 
> 
> I want to sincerely thank Moor (beyondthemoor). She's the best beta-er that's ever existed and I love her dearly. She's always helping me make my chapters better, so this one is to her. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and thank you to my readers that left me comments recently. You really pushed me to sit down and complete this chapter. I adore you all so, so much! <3


	15. Chapter 15

**_Chapter Fifteen_ **

The interior of the car was silent as Sakura raced down the highway. She floored the gas pedal as she wove through traffic, dodging slower moving cars and trucks as she hastily navigated towards Madara’s property.

Her knuckles were white as she gripped the wheel, but she didn’t feel the stiffness in her joints. She didn’t feel anything. Not the bruises from her earlier accident nor the ache from the fingers that had been wrapped around her neck. Not even the coldness that had seeped into her bones. 

All she knew was that she needed to get her best friend to safety.

Beside her, Ino was far too quiet. The normally chatty blonde had been silent since they had peeled away from the curb. Sakura knew Ino must be terrified and inwardly panicking, but Sakura couldn’t find the words to comfort her now. Not when there was still the threat of a hungry wolf chasing them.

Flying down the highway, Sakura took the exit towards Madara’s, passing the gas station where she had picked her taxi cab up. Her throat tightened as she drove over the bridge she had crashed off of only hours before. She forced herself not to look over the side.

Amazingly, it was hard to tell there had even been an accident at all. The guardrail was damaged where it began at the tip of the bridge and there were a few broken tree branches just past it, but otherwise everything looked perfectly normal. One would only know there had been a crash if they were looking for it. No one would ever know that Asao still lay at the bottom of the river.

Tears clogged Sakura’s throat again, but she fiercely swallowed her emotions down as she continued to zip down the road. Every few seconds, her eyes flickered to the rearview mirror, searching for any signs of that silver BMW. It was nowhere in sight, but her tense muscles didn’t relax even as the forest began to thin as they reached the large willow trees lining the long road to Madara’s property. Her foot was heavy on the pedal until those familiar, towering gates came into view.

Unsurprisingly, the two men guarding the entrance greeted her with hard expressions and rifles drawn. Her unfamiliar car and rapid approach would undoubtedly draw alarm, but she didn’t hit the brakes until she was nearly upon them.

Uncaring of the guns, Sakura rolled down her window just enough to shout, “Open the gate now!”

The men recognized her immediately and they jumped to attention, scrambling to follow her command. Sakura didn’t even wait for the gate to open fully before she zipped inside. She sped up the drive and came to a screeching halt in front of the stairs that led to the main doors.

They were finally safe.

Exhaling a shaky breath, some of the weight of the world slipped off Sakura’s shoulders. She took a moment to just breathe as the stress and adrenaline finally began to peter out of her system. As her nerves burned out to an unnatural calm, she was left hollow. 

For Asao and for Ino.

Sakura’s whole body was exhausted, numb. From her head down to her toes. And she wasn’t done yet.

Peeling her stiff fingers from the steering wheel, Sakura killed the engine with a twist of the keys and slipped them out of the ignition before she turned to Ino. Her best friend was staring up at the grand mansion, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly parted. She definitely had questions.

Inhaling a deep breath, Sakura reached for the door handle. “Come on,” she said gently.

Ino glanced at her, shock still clearly written all over her face. 

Sakura didn’t say anything more before she dragged herself out of the car. She bent down to retrieve Tobirama’s gun from where she had tossed it into the map pocket of the door, wincing as the action reminded her of the aches and pains littering her body. She was glad no one was there to witness her grimace as she straightened.

However, the moment was short-lived when the front door to the house burst open.

Madara strode out and surged down the stairs like water breaking through a dam, as powerful and unforgiving as a force of nature. His dark eyes locked on Sakura and her knees went weak with relief when he reached her. He nearly knocked her off her feet as he clutched her upper arms in a bruising grip.

“You’ve been missing for three hours.  _ Where have you been? _ ” Madara demanded. His gaze was even more frighteningly intense up close as he scrutinized her. “You’re freezing. And soaking wet. Are you alright?”

His tone was sharper than a blade, but underneath was the raw edge of real distress. His handsome features were stiff with bone-deep anxiety and it took all of Sakura’s strength not to collapse into his arms and warmth. She had never been more thankful to be with him than now.

She tried to smile comfortingly but her face felt stiff. The corner of her mouth barely twitched. "There was an incident, but I'm fine,” she reassured him quickly, trying to hide just how much everything hurt.

The longer Sakura stood there, the more the pain set in. Her knee was beginning to throb again, her side stung, her back ached and her throat was sore. There wasn’t a place on her body that wasn’t tender, but she kept her expression neutral as Mikoto and Izuna stepped into view. They remained on the top landing of the stairs, but Sakura knew they could hear their conversation.

“Tobirama drove my car off the bridge. And then he went after Ino. I didn’t…I didn’t know where else to bring her,” she said anxiously.

Madara’s grip on her biceps tightened almost painfully as his eyes bore into her. He looked her up and down quickly, as if trying to determine for himself if she really was alright. When he didn’t see anything urgent, his gaze briefly flickered to the blonde woman standing just a few paces behind Sakura. “She’ll be safe here,” he promised.

Gratitude swept through her, but it was short-lived when Ino finally spoke. 

“Ready for that explanation any time now, Sakura."

It was only then that Madara released her. Turning, Sakura faced her friend. 

The blonde was still standing beside the opened door of her car. She eyed Madara, taking in his polished shoes and expensive, perfectly pressed suit before her gaze darted up to Izuna and Mikoto. Ino held a brave face, but Sakura could see the way her back was stiffer than a metal pole and how her fingers gripped the frame of the car door, like a terrified rabbit, one wrong move away from darting back into the safety of her hole. 

Sakura could only sympathize for she had been in Ino's exact situation only months earlier.

“Ino, this is Madara. And his brother, Izuna, and cousin Mikoto. They’re…they’ll keep you safe,” Sakura told her gently.

A look of confusion passed Ino's face as her tense grip on the car loosened. “Madara? The Madara Naruto met? You told me you guys broke up.”

By now, Sakura could feel everyone’s gaze burning a hole through her and her skin prickled in mild embarrassment. “We were never actually dating. It was a lie to keep Naruto from knowing the truth.”

Ino didn’t look entirely convinced. Her eyes were darting back and forth between her and Madara, but Sakura was fortunately saved from even more awkward questions when Mikoto spoke up. “It’s freezing out here. Why don’t we all retire inside where we can discuss things more comfortably.”

Glancing up at the older woman, Sakura flashed her a grateful look and nodded her agreement before she gave Ino a comforting smile and gestured for her to follow. Ino hesitated for a moment, but eventually she trailed Sakura up the steps, sticking close to her side.

Once they were inside, Hina was immediately there to greet them, taking Ino and Sakura’s jacket with a promise to Sakura that she would get hers repaired and cleaned for her.

As soon as Hina was gone, Sakura held out the gun still clenched in her fingers to Madara, barrel down. “This belongs to Tobirama,” she said.

Immediately, Madara accepted it and looked it over with interest. “How did you get this?”

“I told you, Tobirama came after me. Both of us,” she said as Madara passed the weapon to Izuna. “I grabbed it from him when he dropped it.”

“Does that mean he’s dead?” Izuna asked, a hint of hope in his tone.

Frowning, Sakura shook her head. “Unfortunately, no.”

The younger Uchiha brother looked like he had more questions, but before he could ask, Ino piped up again. “Will you please tell me who the hell is Tobirama exactly? And why did he try to kill us?”

Sakura glanced at her best friend. She was still holding her composure, but she stood a little closer to Sakura than necessary and a half-step behind her to put a barrier between herself and these strangers. Sakura didn’t blame her. Ino had witnessed too much tonight. She had seen Sakura stab someone and nearly get choked to death. She was undoubtedly shaken and mistrustful of all of them after Sakura’s last few months of evasion.

Taking a deep breath, Sakura explained. “Tobirama is a member of the mafia. He’s a part of the Senju family.”

Ino’s blue eyes widened. “M-mafia?” she echoed incredulously. “What…what does he want with you?”

“He wants me dead,” Sakura said softly.

Ino’s mouth went slack, but Sakura turned away from her then. Only to find Madara, Izuna and Mikoto were all watching her. She could feel their need to know burning on the tips of their tongues, their expectations suffocating her. Sakura knew Ino had more questions too and she had every intention of telling them everything, but just then a sharp shiver went up her spine, reminding her that she was still cold and wet. And with each passing minute, the ache in her knee grew deeper and deeper. She didn’t know how much longer she could stand on it.

“I know you all have questions, and I promise I will explain everything, but first, I need a few minutes. Mikoto, if you wouldn’t mind, could you please take Ino to the sitting room? I’ll be there are soon as I can. And please have Hina get her a glass of tequila,” Sakura added as an afterthought.

Without hesitation, Mikoto nodded. “Of course, dear.” Then she turned to Ino, holding out her arm in a comforting, motherly gesture, “Ino, you can come with me. You’re safe here.”

Ino glanced at the older woman uncertainly, but after an encouraging nod from Sakura, she followed Mikoto without complaint. 

Izuna hesitated a moment, his eyes flickering between Sakura and Madara before he silently excused himself and followed the women, Tobirama’s gun still in hand.

Sakura watched them leave. She waited until they disappeared deeper into the house before she glanced at Madara. Unsurprisingly, he was already observing her. Their gazes met, but she said nothing before she turned and headed for the staircase. She tried to hide her limp as she gripped the banister, but she had pushed her body beyond its limit and she couldn’t quite conceal her wince as she put her weight onto her left side.

Madara was beside her in an instant. Without a word, he wrapped a secure arm around her waist and assisted her up the stairs to his bedroom. Once inside, he closed the door and lowered her down onto the bench at the foot of the bed.

“Where are you injured?” he asked.

A sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan passed between Sakura’s lips as she finally took the weight off her abused body. “Everywhere,” she breathed.

Kneeling down, Madara untied her tennis shoes before he slipped them and her socks off. He then reached for the button of her jeans and helped ease them down her legs. 

“What’s the worst?” he pressed gently.

“Jaw, throat, back, ribs on my right side. Left knee!” she added with a hiss when her pant leg caught.

Immediately Madara stilled and waited for her taut muscles to relax again before he gingerly shimmied her jeans the rest of the way off. Once gone, he bent towards her to cup her face with tender fingers. His expression was outwardly calm but his dark eyes were like sharpened obsidian as he examined her. He tilted her face one way and then the other, checking the extent of her injuries before his gaze dropped to her throat.

That’s when he stilled.

It took her a moment to realize the bruises from Tobirama’s hand must have begun to show. She exhaled an uneven breath as Madara traced the marks. His fingers were nothing more than a featherlight caress, but she saw his jaw clench as a vein in his neck began to throb.

Immediately Sakura reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “I’m okay,” she soothed him.

However, Madara didn’t relax under her touch. 

“Tell me what he did to you.”

His voice was harder than steel and held unwavering authority. 

Sakura wanted to reassure him again that she was alright if only to calm his agitation. She could feel how tightly wound he was, like a snake coiled and ready to strike, but she knew he would only be satisfied with the truth. Another wave of exhaustion rolled through her, and she closed her eyes a moment. 

Inhaling through her nose, she began quietly. “Tobirama found me and Asao leaving the city. He chased us down and caught us just as we reached the river. We crashed and we...” She trailed off as her voice threatened to waver. Emotion constricted her throat and she cleared it lightly before continuing, “I got a taxi back into town. I was worried Tobirama had gone after Ino. I went to check on her and he showed up right after I got there. Ino and I fought him off and I brought her here as fast as I could,” she finished.

Madara’s eyes never once left Sakura’s as his fingers continued to absently stroke the abused skin at her throat with delicate fingers. “Why didn’t you call me?” he eventually asked, his tone softer than before.

“My phone got destroyed in the river.”

A frown crossed his face, but he said nothing for a long moment before asking, “You were with Asao. Where is he?”

Upon his question, Sakura's chin trembled. She clenched her teeth together as tears burned behind her eyes and she looked away as she swallowed hard. 

“He–he didn’t survive the crash. I wasn’t able to…he’s still in the river,” she said, her voice wavering at the end.

Madara’s thumb paused mid-stroke. She could feel his eyes burning into her, but she wasn’t able to look up at him. Not when her vision blurred. Not as the shame engulfed her. She had left him there.

“He knew what he was getting into when he agreed to work for me,” Madara told her softly. “He knew the risks. His death is not your fault.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” she replied harshly as she snapped her head to look up at him.

Madara's expression only softened as he raised his hand to brush away the tear that had leaked from the corner of her eye. 

“No, it doesn’t," he agreed gently. "But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still gone.”

Her chin trembled again and she closed her eyes, no longer able to keep her tears at bay. “We can’t just leave him there,” she whispered.

“And we won’t,” Madara promised.

He pulled her towards him until her face was pressed into his chest. She breathed in his scent and his warmth. She felt so untouchable, so safe then, but the security also made her walls splinter and crack. She wanted to sob and release all that pent-up grief in her chest, but she couldn’t. Now wasn’t the time.

The hands clutching his suit pushed him away. “I can’t do this right now," Sakura said, rubbing her face. "I need to see to Ino.”

She had half-expected Madara to tell her no, that she needed to rest and recuperate, but he did none of that. “Let’s get you showered and warmed up first. She can wait a few minutes more.”

Swallowing again, Sakura nodded before she let Madara finish undressing her. After unbuttoning the top two buttons of her V-neck, he reached for the hem of her shirt and drew it up over her head. She tried to bite back her hiss of pain as her side stung again, but all her adrenaline had been used up. There was nothing left to protect her from the hurt.

“You’re bleeding,” Madara stated.

Confused, Sakura followed his gaze down to her side. Blinking, she realized it wasn’t a bruise that had made her flank ache the past several hours, but rather a gash. A faint memory of getting caught on a jagged piece of glass as she climbed out of the waterlogged car surfaced in her mind, but she quickly pushed it away as she focused on the wound. It was about five inches long. She couldn’t tell how deep it was, but judging by how much blood was smeared around the wound, it wasn’t shallow.

Cupping the wound, Sakura pressed her fingers around the edges, relieved when she didn’t feel anything more than surface pain. 

“It’s not too bad,” she said. 

“Let me see,” Madara said.

He knelt beside her on the bench and lifted her arm up until it was resting on his shoulder before he carefully inspected the wound. Sakura ground her teeth against the ache and only flinched once when he accidentally applied too much pressure.

“It’s still bleeding, but I don’t think you need stitches,” Madara eventually said.

“Any debris?”

“No, but it should still be cleaned.”

Sakura let her arm slide off his shoulder as he pushed himself to his feet. 

“My medical bag is in my room,” she told him.

“No need. I have one here,” he said, swiftly crossing the room.

From inside the bathroom, Sakura heard Madara rummage around in the cabinets and the faucet turn on before he returned a few minutes later with a red medical bag and a damp washcloth. He set the bag on the floor by her feet before he sat beside her again and began to clean the grime and blood from her skin. She tried not to flinch under his light touch, but the skin was still raw and sensitive, and she winced as the cloth irritated her abused flesh.

Once the blood was wiped away, Sakura directed Madara in which medicines to use. The irrigation solution burned like hell, but she firmly kept her mouth clamped shut before she had him retrieve the medical-grade skin glue to seal the wound closed.

Once he was done, Sakura looked over his work. It would definitely scar, but there was little she could do about that. She looked up at him with a small but sincere smile. “Thank you.”

Madara met her gaze evenly. She could still see the stress – the fury – lining his face, but the waves of tension rolling off him had lulled. He pressed his palm against her cheek affectionately, his body warmth seeping into her skin.

“You’re still freezing,” he frowned. “We should get you in the shower.”

As if reminded, a shiver went through her. Now that she wasn’t focused on her injuries, she was suddenly aware of the pins and needles in her skin as her system did everything it knew how to get her blood circulating and back to temperature.

“A shower sounds nice," she agreed. 

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Madara helped her into the bathroom. He propped her against the counter before he turned on the shower to warm and retrieved a towel from her. In the meantime, Sakura slipped out of her bra and panties before she allowed Madara to help her to the shower. He watched her carefully as she stepped inside the large stall.

“You don’t need to stay. I’ll be alright," Sakura told him as she braced herself against the wall.

Madara frowned, but he placed a lingering kiss to her temple with a promise to find her something warm to change into before he left.

Under the warm spray of the water, Sakura released a heavy breath. It was the first time she had stopped moving since she woke up this morning. Sunrise seemed as if it had been a lifetime ago. Even her conversation with Madara that morning felt as if it had happened days earlier. She wanted to just stand under the comforting fall of water and chase her aches and pains away, but her mind wouldn’t let her rest. Not when she was so acutely aware that Ino was only a few floors below her, still confused and scared about the dark world she had just been dragged into.

Sakura didn’t linger long. She stood under the spray just long enough to get the feeling back into her fingers before she quickly washed her hair. Madara wasn’t in the bedroom when she left the shower, but just as he promised, he placed her pair of thick, cashmere-lined yoga pants and a sweatshirt on the bed for her. After having sat in his drawers for so long, they gave off the faintest aroma of his cologne and she took a moment to breathe in Madara’s scent, taking comfort in it. 

Then she steeled herself for the conversation that lurked downstairs.

In the sitting room, Sakura found Ino and Mikoto just as she had asked. They were seated on couches adjacent to one another. There was a glass of tequila between Ino’s hands, but she didn’t appear to be drinking. Instead, she was staring down at it like she wished she could dive inside and hide away.

With a quick scan of the room, Sakura realized both Izuna and Madara were absent. Hina was standing off to one side with her hands folded over one another lest she be needed. She smiled warmly at Sakura as she entered, but Sakura only managed a weak twitch of her lips in return before she focused her attention back on Ino and Mikoto.

The older woman was speaking to her best friend in a soft, motherly tone. Sakura didn’t know how she knew about Ino’s job, but she was telling Ino about a new line of makeup she had discovered recently. It was hard to tell if Ino was even really listening, but Mikoto continued unoffended by Ino’s lack of response.

It was only when Mikoto caught sight of Sakura out of the corner of her eye that she paused her conversation. Her expression warmed. 

“You look much better. How are you feeling?” she asked kindly, genuine concern filling in her voice.

At her question, Ino looked up and followed the older woman’s gaze, relief filling her expression when she saw Sakura standing there.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Sakura said with a faint smile. Then her gaze shifted to Ino. “Thank you for keeping Ino company while I was upstairs. Would you mind giving us a moment please?”

“Of course not, dear,” she said.

With an elegance only Mikoto held, she stood from the couch, the black silk of her dress cascading around her, before she gestured a dismissal to Hina. The older maid exited first with a polite nod to Sakura before Mikoto followed, only pausing briefly to tell Sakura, “Call if you need anything.”

Then she was gone, leaving Sakura and Ino alone.

For one long moment, nothing happened. Sakura stood just inside the doorway as Ino sat on the couch across the room, her tequila clenched tightly between her fingers. 

Taking a deep breath, Sakura began, “I know this is all really confusing and I know you’re a little freaked out–”

“A little?” Ino interrupted, her voice startlingly hard. “Try a lot. You need to start talking to me right now, Sakura. No more lies, no more secrets. What the hell is going on?”

Pursing her lips, Sakura figured it was best that she start at the beginning. “Do you remember some months ago, when we went out to lunch and you kept asking me what was wrong?”

Her question caused Ino’s brows to furrow, but she nodded after a moment, recalling the memory. “Yeah. Is that when all this started?”

Sakura nodded. “Yeah.”

Understanding passed over Ino’s face before it turned to mild alarm. “Wait, that was nearly seven months ago.”

“It was,” Sakura agreed softly.

Ino’s expression of dismay lingered for a moment more before she shook her head. “I don’t understand. How did you get involved in this?”

Crossing the room, Sakura tried her best to hide her limp before she lowered herself down onto the couch where Mikoto had been sitting earlier. Close, but not crowding and angled so she could directly face her best friend. 

“A couple weeks before our lunch, I was approached by Madara for my medical knowledge. Tobirama found out and he…” Sakura trailed off as the next words caught in her throat. She cleared it lightly before she pressed on. “He abducted me. Madara freed me from him, but it only pissed Tobirama off. He's been after me ever since.”

A look of true horror crossed Ino’s face and her fingers tightened around the glass in her hands until her knuckles were white. She opened her mouth as she stared at Sakura wide-eyed, but nothing came out. It took her several minutes to find her voice. “He abducted you. Did he…did he…oh my god, Sakura...”

Sakura knew what her best friend was asking: had Tobirama raped her? 

She was quick to shake her head. “No. But he did torture me.”

The waning terror on Ino’s face came back full force upon Sakura’s last sentence. The blonde stared at her with that expression for a moment that stretched on for a lifetime before she set her glass of tequila down on the coffee table and stood to take a seat on the couch beside Sakura. Sympathy covered every edge of Ino’s face when she wrapped her shaking arms around Sakura and hugged her tighter than she ever had before.

Ino’s embrace irritated Sakura’s side and caused her injury to twinge in pain again, but she endured it silently. Sakura had long ago accepted what had happened to her. Ino deserved a minute to process it too. 

“I’m so sorry,” Ino said when she pulled away again. She held Sakura by the shoulders as she searched her face apologetically. There were tears in the corners of her eyes. “You must think I’m a terrible friend. All that time I made you feel bad for not talking to me or hanging out, and it was because you were dealing with this. All of this. You stayed away to keep us out of it, didn’t you?”

Against her will, the corner of Sakura’s mouth twitched. “You’re not a bad friend, Ino. And yes, I just wanted to keep you all safe.”

The apologetic look lingered on Ino’s face, but she said nothing before she finally released Sakura to dab at her eyes. Once dry, Ino reached for her tequila again and took a sip before passing it to Sakura. Grateful, Sakura downed a mouthful. In the meantime, Ino seemed to eye her surroundings as if she was just seeing the room for the first time.

"So, this is Madara's house?" Ino asked.

Sakura nodded.

"And you what? Live here now?"

Unsure what to say, Sakura pursed her lips. She had half a mind to downplay it until she realized Ino was staring at the bookshelf on the wall. It was lined with her medical textbooks. 

"Madara and I agreed it was safer for me to stay here than to post guards on my apartment," Sakura told her.

An unusual frown crossed her best friend's face like she had found a loophole in Sakura's story, but she let the matter go in favor of asking, “So, if Tobirama is mafia, does that mean Madara is too?”

Sakura handed the glass of tequila back before she nodded. “Yes.”

Ino pursed her lips thoughtfully as she processed that. “Why did he approach you? I mean, don't get me wrong; you're an amazing doctor, but why you?"

"Do you remember Sasuke from high school?" Sakura asked. 

An incredulous look crossed Ino's face like Sakura had just asked her the most ridiculous question in the world, but eventually a pensive frown crossed her lips. "Sasuke? The guy that had really nice hair that we thought was hot?"

"Yeah, him."

"He was a dick."

"He was also Mikoto’s son," Sakura told her. "And Madara's nephew. Apparently Sasuke told Madara about my knowledge of medicine. He approached me to help heal one of his other nephews, Shisui, Sasuke’s cousin."

"Oh," Ino murmured, her frown growing. "So, Sasuke is mafia too. That would explain why he was always so cold. Have you seen or talked to him then?"

Sakura shook her head slowly. "No, he was killed just over a year ago by Tobirama."

Ino's lips parted before she whispered, "Holy shit."

"Yeah," she agreed softly.

Silence settled between them as the blonde slumped back against the couch and sipped her tequila again. Her stare was a million miles away as she processed the half dozen bombs Sakura had just dropped on her.

"You're involved with the mafia," Ino eventually murmured more time herself than Sakura. Then she glanced at Sakura as she asked, “So…are they like the good mafia?”

Her question was so odd that Sakura couldn’t stop her snort in time. “I’m not sure that exists, but if it did, I would say yes. They’re not cruel, if that’s what you mean.”

Sakura didn’t know if that answered Ino’s question, but her friend went quiet as she finished off the tequila in her glass. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but after a few minutes, Sakura felt herself grow restless.

She glanced at Ino briefly before her gaze fell downwards, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Ino. I never wanted to bring you into any of this.”

Ino didn’t immediately reply. Instead, she inhaled and exhaled one slow, deep breath before she finally asked, “So, what happens now?”

“I don’t know,” Sakura shook her head. “I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know.”

“Tobirama’s going to be hunting me now too, isn’t he?” the blonde asked quietly. When Sakura nodded, Ino pursed her lips together. “I can’t go back to my apartment, can I?”

“No,” Sakura told her. “It’s not safe. I’d like you to stay here. Just for now, until we figure out Tobirama’s next move.”

That caused a frown to settle in the corners of Ino’s lips. “‘We’? What do you mean ‘we’? How deep in this are you, Sakura?”

Abruptly aware that Sakura had just given away something she shouldn’t have, she clamped her mouth shut. She pushed herself to her feet and crossed the room to the side table near the door where a bottle of expensive tequila had been left. Picking it up, she returned to Ino and filled her glass again, if only to give herself something to do.

“You can stay in my room for now,” Sakura said softly. “I’ll have Hina bring fresh sheets and towels in the morning.”

Ino only stared up at her for one long moment. Her cunning blue eyes conveyed she obviously wasn’t happy with Sakura’s avoidance. Instead of pressing, she tossed back her tequila and set her glass aside before she stood to follow Sakura.

Arm in arm, the pair of women made their way through the house. Sakura led Ino to the bedroom she used to stay in before she had begun sleeping in Madara’s room. It was utterly spotless with clean sheets and fresh towels already in the linen closet.

Sakura helped Ino get settled, showing her the closets and bathroom. When she was sure Ino wasn’t looking, she grabbed the spare handgun Shisui had given her from the dresser and tucked it into her waistband at her back just as Ino reentered from the bathroom. 

“Use whatever you want. If there’s anything you need, just ask. Hina can get you pretty much anything,” Sakura told her.

A look of confusion bordering on nervousness settled on Ino’s face. “You aren’t staying?”

“I need to talk to Madara, but I’ll be around,” Sakura said, pushing down her rising guilt. She didn’t want to leave Ino, but she knew everyone was still downstairs waiting for her. She couldn’t rest just yet.

The frown didn’t fall from Ino’s face, but she reluctantly nodded before Sakura left the room. 

Sakura closed the door gently behind her before she paused in the hallway.

For one full minute, Sakura didn’t move as she allowed herself a moment to just breathe. She inhaled deeply, knowing the discussion that awaited her. She knew that regardless of her injuries, Madara was going to be furious over her exchange with Hashirama earlier that day. She was not looking forward to his reaction.

Steeling herself, Sakura headed back downstairs. As uncomfortable as the next conversation would be, she wasn’t going to avoid it.

Back down in the sitting room, Sakura collected Ino's glass. She eyed it, hoping the alcohol had been enough to settle Ino's nerves. Her friend needed to sleep off this night. 

A twinkling of lights through the glass caught Sakura's notice. She picked her gaze up only to find it was coming from the backyard. On the other side of the large, bay window was the garden. It was illuminated now by subtle but beautiful warm lights, bringing emphasis to the spirea shrubs and forsythias. Their leaves had turned yellow in the fall weather, but it only added a splash of stunning color to the lush garden.

Setting Ino's glass aside, Sakura approached the window to peer outside. As she stood there, it dawned on her just how stiflingly quiet the house was. It was odd after so many hours of chaos. She felt like she was standing in the wake of a hurricane when everything was so still after the storm.

Or was she standing in the eye?

Tobirama wasn’t done yet. Not by far. He would return, more enraged than ever, and he would stop at nothing to get his revenge. He would go after Ino and then her. Sakura had only fueled his bloodlust.

However, Sakura didn’t feel fear. At least not for herself. Instead, fury and frustration boiled in her chest. They mixed like two volatile chemicals, one drop away from becoming unstable and blowing up.

Her only consolation was knowing that Tobirama hadn’t walked away unscathed. If they were lucky, Sakura had sliced through a tendon or two in his shoulder. He would need surgery to fix the damage, but she had bought them more time.

Sakura could still feel the moment her blade had sunk into his shoulder, could still hear Tobirama’s unrestrained roar of pain. She had tasted his blood and the dark gratification had snaked through her veins like a drug.

She wondered if that made her a bad person – a bad surgeon. She was supposed to be a healer, a source of hope for the sick and wounded. She had taken an oath to do no harm, and yet she had just willingly stabbed a man. The gun tucked into the back of her pants suddenly weighed more than a boulder. But at the same time, Sakura also knew that if she saw Tobirama again, she wouldn't hesitate to seize her weapon.

Reaching behind her, Sakura wrapped her fingers around the grip and withdrew her gun. The polymer was warm from her body heat and it weighed nicely in her hand. Shisui had chosen her weapon well for her.

“Sakura.”

She recognized Madara’s voice immediately, but she didn’t glance at him as she examined her gun a moment longer. Eventually she lowered her weapon as she released a long breath. “I’m tired.”

“I know and I promise you can rest soon,” he said.

However, that wasn’t the kind of tired she meant and her expression told him so when she finally turned around to look at him. Mikoto and Izuna were with him again, but her eyes didn’t waver from Madara as he eyed the gun in her hand before his gaze found hers again.

“Madara filled us in on what happened,” Mikoto said. There was a look of genuine concern on her face as she crossed the room. Mikoto’s dark eyes searched Sakura’s face as she needlessly straightened the hood of Sakura’s sweatshirt. “You were in a nasty crash. Are you sure you weren’t injured?”

So Madara hadn’t filled them in on the whole story. Sakura was thankful for that. She forced a smile onto her face as she nodded. “I’m fine. I’m more concerned about what happens now,” she said.

She set her gun down on the table beside the bottle of tequila and Ino’s used glass before she sunk down onto the couch, refusing to let her expression so much as twitch as her muscles strained with stiffness.

“That’s what we’re here to discuss,” Mikoto told her. She gracefully lowered herself down onto the loveseat adjacent to Sakura before she fixed her gaze upon her. “We want you to know that we are taking Ino’s safety seriously and that we fully intend to protect her. We already have started communications to get her a full protection detail–”

“I had a protection detail until today,” Sakura interrupted quietly. “And so did she.”

A look of confusion passed over Mikoto’s face before her dark eyes flickered towards Madara. He still stood with Izuna on the other side of the room just inside the doorway, but his expression mirrored hers and they both turned back to Sakura, obviously waiting for an answer.

Sakura met their gazes unapologetically. “I asked Itachi to give her an escort last week after I found out Tobirama had eyes on her. He wasn’t there when I went to her apartment tonight though. I assume Tobirama killed him.”

Madara was quiet for a moment before he glanced at his brother. “We’ll need to call Itachi. He needs to find his man.”

“I’ll phone him,” Izuna agreed, already pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He stepped out of the room as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“There is just one thing I don’t understand,” Mikoto said once he was gone. “Sakura, you said that Tobirama thought he had killed you and then he went after Ino, correct?”

Sakura nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why would he do so?” she asked no one in particular. “If his goal was to hurt you by, God forbid, killing Ino, why would he wait until after you were dead to go after her? What point would he be making?”

It wasn't something Sakura had considered until Mikoto asked. Mikoto was right. Why go after Ino when her murder would no longer have any impact on Sakura?

Sakura had only gotten a few glimpses into Tobirama’s mind, but she was only too familiar with how twisted he was. He hated her, but Madara was and always would be Tobirama’s end game. The only reason she could think of why Tobirama would go for Ino after murdering Sakura was–

“Because I asked Itachi to put a protection detail on Ino,” Sakura murmured, her gaze unfocused as she sorted through her theory. “By killing me and Asao, and then Ino and her escort, it would send a message to Madara’s associates that no one under his protection was safe. It would shake their confidence in him.”

The room went silent after Sakura finished. She blinked her eyes back into focus to find there was a look of worry pinched between Mikoto’s brows, but she wasn’t looking at Sakura. She was watching Madara. Automatically Sakura followed her gaze.

Outwardly, Madara didn't react. He stood utterly still, as if he had been carved from stone, but she had since become familiar with his body language. 

Her eyes zeroed in on the way his jaw clenched and how the hand not tucked into the slacks of his suit twitched, resisting the urge to ball into a tight fist. He was seething at the thought of having the foundation he had built his empire upon be damaged by someone like Tobirama. He would want to seal the crack before it spread any further.

When Madara eventually spoke, his voice was deceptively calm, “If Sakura is correct, then we need to ensure tonight’s events remain quiet.”

"I agreed," Mikoto said solemnly. "I'll call Shisui and have him return to Ino’s apartment. Make sure there wasn’t too much of a mess left behind.”

Madara nodded as the worst of the tension left his shoulders. "We'll also need to make arrangements to extract Asao’s body. We should return it to his wife.”

_ Wife. _

The word echoed in Sakura’s mind as Mikoto replied, but Sakura couldn't hear her. 

Asao had been married? He had driven her for months and she had never known. How long had he been married? Did they have kids? Were there children now growing up without their father?

Grief and guilt clawed at Sakura's chest again. The threat of tears burned behind her nose and she pushed herself to her feet to hide the emotion building within her like a river trapped behind a dam. She paced in front of the bay window. Her knee ached worse than it had before and she was unable to completely conceal her limp, but she didn’t care. The physical pain was easier to handle than her mental torment. She could feel Mikoto and Madara’s eyes tracking her as she moved, but she didn’t look at them as she fought to maintain her composure. 

She was full of sorrow and regret. But more than that she was angry. She was livid. This was Tobirama’s fault. He was responsible for everything that had gone wrong in her life in recent months. She wanted his blood on her fingers again. She wanted to feel the moment his heart stopped under her palm.

“Things are accelerating too quickly, Madara,” Mikoto eventually murmured. Her words were quiet but there was an edge of steel in them.

“I agree,” Madara said. “I’ll reach out to Hashirama tonight to set up a meeting. We need to renegotiate our treaty if we're to ever have any peace.”

_ Treaty!? _

Sakura spun around on her heels. “Fuck Hashirama!” she spat.

Both Mikoto and Madara snapped their attention to her at her sudden outburst. Their expressions mirrored one another as their eyes widened in bewilderment.

“I gave that man the opportunity to stand down and he went back on his word,” Sakura snarled. “Both him and his brother can burn in the deepest depths of Hell.”

Concern caused Mikoto’s brows to furrow. She glanced at Madara, but his eyes didn’t unwaver from Sakura. 

“What are you talking about, Sakura?” Madara asked slowly. “What opportunity?”

“I ran into Hashirama at the hospital today,” Sakura explained, her voice tight with barely suppressed rage. “He told me he would order Tobirama to stand down. And a few hours later, Tobirama tried to gun me down.”

Madara’s expression hardened. “Hashirama told you he would do this in exchange for what?” he pressed.

Sakura pursed her lips together and swallowed thickly as her gaze dropped then, unable to meet his eye. “I don’t know. He didn’t say,” she admitted quietly.

“You don’t know?” Madara repeated incredulously.

It was the first time Sakura had ever heard Madara’s carefully controlled façade crack in front of others and against her will, she found herself going on the defensive. 

“I didn’t mean to, okay? And it doesn’t even matter anymore. He didn’t keep his word.”

The look Madara sent her said that it clearly did still matter, but before he could speak, Mikoto stood up and stepped in. 

“Alright, let’s just all just take a minute and think this through.”

“No! I’m done waiting!” Sakura snapped, unable to keep her emotions in check. 

Time and time again, she had been dragged through ringer and she had let it happen. She had let Madara call the shots, trusted him and his family to keep her safe, and yet she was still being hunted. She was tired of looking over her shoulder everywhere she went.

“For months, I’ve sat quietly and allowed others to dictate my future,” she continued harshly. “I’ve been kidnapped and tortured and nearly killed and I’m sick of it! Fuck living like this! It’s time this ends.”

Without waiting for a reply, Sakura snatched her gun from the table before she slipped past Madara and stalked out of the room. She checked her weapon again, this time sliding out the magazine and counting her rounds before she reloaded and racked the slide.

Behind her, footsteps quickly followed. 

“Where are you going?” Madara asked.

“I’m going to find that fucker and put a bullet through his head.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before his hand was on her wrist. In a split second, Madara spun her around and disarmed her in a single, fluid motion. She fought to take her weapon back, but he easily overpowered her, pinning her against the wall in the hallway just hard enough to make his point without further irritating her wounds.

“This won’t solve anything, Sakura,” said Madara firmly. He slipped her gun inside his suit while he pressed his other hand to her shoulder to keep her in place.

“Tobirama knows you’re angry,” Mikoto added calmly from where she stood a few paces away. “He’ll be expecting you. Now isn’t the time to attack.”

Sakura glanced between Mikoto and Madara. They were both staring at her with matching albeit sympathetic frowns and she could only scoff as she realized neither of them was on her side. 

“So, we do nothing?” she asked. 

“Yes,” Madara told her.

“For now,” Mikoto corrected.

Sakura gawked at the older woman before she turned her gaze to Madara. Standing this close, she had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze and she opened her mouth, but it took her a moment to find her voice. 

“How can you say that after what he did to me?” she asked.

She knew her words were manipulative, but she had nothing else. She was grasping at straws.

Something unrecognizable flickered behind Madara’s eyes as his fingers briefly tightened, but the look was gone before she could name it. 

“I understand your frustrations, Sakura, and trust me, your sentiments are shared,” Madara said, his tone cool and even. The voice of a well-composed leader. “But our relationship with the Senju is more complicated than that. An outright attack will start a war between them and the Uchiha. It will tear the city in two. Dozens will be killed and hundreds will get injured in the crossfire.”

“So, they can attack us but we can’t retaliate against them?” Sakura retorted.

Madara shook his head. “As far as they know, you’re only a protected interest to us. You’re talking about killing Senju Tobirama, Hashirama’s last living brother. It will not end well.”

“They already know I’m more than a protected interest!” Sakura countered.

Madara’s eyes flashed and narrowed minutely. “Did Hashirama tell you that?”

“No,” she snapped back. When Madara’s gaze continued to bore into her, she explained more slowly. “It...it was Tsunade.”

“Hashirama’s niece?” Mikoto asked in confusion.

“Sakura’s old teacher,” Madara informed her without taking his eyes off Sakura. 

The intensity caused her to drop her gaze, but Madara still hadn’t released her from where he kept her pressed to the wall. If anything, his grip had only tightened. He wasn’t going to allow her to escape without an explanation. 

“She...she’s the one who told me Tobirama was watching Ino,” Sakura eventually said. “She told me Hashirama’s interested in me because of my connection to you.”

“And what did she ask for in return for this information?” Madara pressed.

His tone caused a spark of indignation to burn through Sakura’s veins and she snapped her head up to glare at him, suddenly protective of the woman who had only ever had her back through her internship and residency, and now this. 

“Nothing! Not everything is a trade, Madara.”

“When it comes to the Senju, it is. You can't just ask for favors and expect nothing in return.”

“Well at least I’m trying!” Sakura spat, unable to control the bubble of rage building more and more pressure within her. 

It exploded in a violent outburst. 

“All you’ve ever done is give me empty promises while I’m out being gunned down and nearly strangled. Who knows, maybe next time Tobirama won’t miss and I’ll end up in a body bag in the morgue of my own hospital. At least then I wouldn’t be afraid every moment of every day!”

A look of stunned worry crossed Mikoto’s face at her outburst. Even Madara looked mildly blindsided by her admission, but Sakura didn’t wait for either of them to gather their thoughts.

Time and time again, she had embarrassed herself by defying Madara’s orders and ignoring her own common sense, and landed herself in danger. Tonight was only another humiliation to add to the list. She was rubbed and exhausted. She felt crazy and insane, like she was locked within a cage inside her own life. It was like she was a bird trying to find its freedom by slamming against the metal bars over and over until her wings were broken. She honestly, truly couldn’t take any more. She was as close as she had ever been in her life to having a complete mental breakdown.

And she refused to have an audience for it.

“Sakura–” Madara began. 

But Sakura couldn't bear to hear another word. 

Placing both palms against his chest, she shoved Madara as hard as she could. It was like trying to move a mountain, but he took several steps back nevertheless.

In that moment, Sakura had never hated herself more; never hated Madara more. She could barely stand to look at him. 

"I wish I had never met you."

Her words were like a bullet to the chest. Sharp and stinging upon entry before exploding and tearing through muscle and tissue. 

Madara’s entire demeanor shifted. The hard clench of his jaw slackened as his entire body went still. His lips parted but no word escaped. His emotions had never been more palpable. It would have been more merciful of her to physically cut his heart out of his chest.

Guilt and regret should have swelled within her, but in that moment, Sakura only had room for her own emotions. The anger and grief warring in her chest was all she could handle. 

She didn't spare either Madara or Mikoto another glance before she stormed down the hall.

xx

Sakura didn’t know where she was going. All she knew was she had to put as much distance between her and Madara. These halls that had once begun to feel like home now felt more like a prison, suffocating and inescapable.

It was a relief when she reached a door to the backyard. It was bolted shut and secured, but she unfastened the locks before she burst out into the yard. She followed the unfamiliar path down the garden, sinking deeper and deeper into the shrubs and trees until the house was hidden behind the thick foliage. 

It was only when her lungs were so full of pent-up emotion that Sakura stopped beside one of the impressive willows lining the path. She braced a hand against its trunk as she inhaled a much-needed, cleansing breath. Only for it to come back out in a shaking sob.

In that moment, all the stress, grief and fear from that day came crashing down on her. It was as if someone had reached into her chest and wrenched her heart out. Never had she been more hopeless and lost, like she didn’t even control her own life anymore. She was simply there to serve the Uchiha family.

Using the tree to support herself, Sakura slowly sank down to the grass before she pulled her uninjured leg to her chest. She leaned her forehead against her knee as she tried to make herself as small as possible, as if she could just make the world forget all about her. She wanted to disappear. She wished it would all just go away.

She wished it had been her that had died in that crash rather than Asao.

The tears fell harder as Sakura finally allowed herself to mourn him. She mourned his wife and the life they had lost together. The what-ifs and could-have-beens if it wasn’t for her. She wept until she couldn’t breathe, wept until she was physically and mentally numb. Wept until her tears finally, finally ran dry.

Sakura didn’t know how much time had passed before the soft pad of footsteps reached her ears sometime later. It could have been an hour, it could have been all night. She didn’t know. 

Still, she didn’t look up as they drew nearer. Some twisted side of her hoped it was Madara, but the bigger part prayed it wasn’t. She really didn’t know what to tell him and she really didn’t care what he had to say either. She was just so  _ tired _ .

“You’ve been out here a while. I was beginning to worry,” Mikoto said.

Sakura recognized her kind voice immediately, but her gaze didn’t waver from where she stared unseeing across the path to a row of sweet alyssum. The delicate, white-purple flowers were glowing in the string lights roped along the path, but Sakura could hardly appreciate their beauty. Not when her world was so ugly.

It was only when a gentle weight settled upon her shoulders that she blinked her eyes into focus. Immediately she recognized it as a blanket and she looked up just as Mikoto held a mug towards her with something steaming in it.

Carefully, Sakura accepted it with fragile hands before the scent of lavender tea reached her nose. The heat seeped through the porcelain and warmed her chilled fingers. She had been so distraught inside that she hadn’t even realized how cold it was outside. She was frozen solid.

“May I join you?” Mikoto asked kindly.

Sakura peered up at her shyly before she quickly looked away and gave a short nod. She hoped that the older woman couldn’t see how red and puffy her face was in the dark.

Tucking her long coat under her dress, Mikoto carefully lowered herself into the grassy spot beside Sakura. A little self-conscious, Sakura hiked the blanket up a little higher around her neck before she hid her face in her cup. She took a small sip, but the tea tasted like ash on her raw emotions.

“It’s a beautiful night,” Mikoto said softly.

And it was. The moon was half-full, casting everything in a faint, silver light. Stars speckled every inch of the sky, twinkling like diamonds in the blackness. There was just the slightest hint of a breeze, rustling the tops of the trees and filling the quiet.

“Did he send you out here?” Sakura asked flatly, not really in the mood for small talk.

To her surprise, Mikoto shook her head. “No. He wanted to come out himself, but I thought you might need some time. Madara isn’t known for his way with words.”

Sakura would have snorted had she been in a better mood. Now, however, she hesitantly sipped her tea again.

“I know you’re upset, but try not to judge Madara too harshly,” Mikoto continued gently. “He’s doing what he thinks is right for everyone.”

A huff of irony escaped Sakura’s nose. She knew Mikoto was his family, but the last thing Sakura wanted to hear right then was someone defending him. 

“How can you possibly agree with his decision? Tobirama’s the one who killed your son. How can you not want revenge?”

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Sakura wished she could snatch them back. She was raw and lashing out defensively, even towards the woman who had only ever shown her kindness.

“I’m sorry,” Sakura apologized immediately.

Beside her, Mikoto had fallen utterly still. Her presence had turned frostier than the air around them and razor-sharp, but when she spoke, her voice was deceptively calm. “It’s not about revenge. It’s about preserving what we have. I have to consider the interests of my whole family. The desires of the few cannot outweigh the safety of the many.”

Sakura stared at her then, but Mikoto was looking straight ahead. In the moonlight, she appeared otherworldly, a goddess in human form.

In that moment, Sakura realized that under Mikoto’s calm façade was an anguished mother. One who would cut Tobirama’s still-beating heart from his chest given the opportunity. And she would do so without ever losing sleep.

Without a word, Mikoto turned her head to meet Sakura’s eye. Her expression was as passive and collected as it always was, but her eyes were now cold and ruthless. A chill went down Sakura’s spine that had nothing to do with the icy temperature and she watched unmoving as Mikoto elegantly pushed herself back to her feet.

“Don’t stay out too late, dear,” she said in that kind, motherly tone. Then she turned and made her way back up the path.

xx

From the darkened balcony, Madara watched Sakura painfully trek up the path from the garden. He noted the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the empty coffee mug in her hand with sharp eyes, waiting until she was safely back inside before he turned his gaze up to the moonlit sky. A silent sigh pressed out of his nose.

What a mess of a night.

Madara hadn't been prepared for this. He had been expecting a quiet evening in with Sakura with a nice dinner and a bottle of good wine. Instead, he had gotten a night from hell.

The excitement that had filled him when Asao had texted to inform him he and Sakura were on their way home now seemed like a memory from a lifetime ago. Little did Madara know that it would be the last he would ever hear from his subordinate. He had told Sakura this was life in a mafia world, but just as she had said, it didn't make it any easier.

Asao had been an honest, young man with a promising future ahead. He would have gone far, and now Madara was writing out a check to his widow.  _ A check _ . 

He could only imagine what Sakura, a career surgeon, had seen to come home so shaken.

It physically pained Madara to see her so beaten down. The instant she had met him in front of the house, he could tell she had been through something terrible. There was a haunted look in her eyes that was even more alarming than the limp in her step or gash in her side. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hide her away from the rest of the world, but he knew Sakura would only rip into him again.

Madara could still feel her exasperation and impatience with the situation. Her earlier words had been like a hawk diving for its prey, her sharp talons sinking into the tender flesh of his chest.

Even hours later, the wounds were still raw and fresh. 

A sigh from the depths of Madara’s soul passed between his lips before he finally slipped back inside. His bedroom was some-twenty degrees warmer than outside and the heat immediately encompassed him as he closed the door to the balcony behind him. He didn't linger.

Instead, he stepped out into the hall and silently descended the stairs, listening for any movement elsewhere in the house. Hoping, just hoping, to catch a glimpse of Sakura. 

All was still.

In the kitchen, Madara found Mikoto by herself. She held a glass of red wine in her hand as she sat at the island counter, her gaze withdrawn. She blinked herself back to the present upon Madara’s entrance.

“Did Sakura retire to bed?” Madara asked quietly, not wanting his voice to carry.

“Yes, she did,” Mikoto told him.

“Good. She had an impossible day.”

The older woman made a noise of agreement and sipped from her wine before she set it back down, the glass clinking faintly against the granite countertop. Her gaze was utterly unwavering as she asked her next question. 

“How long have you two been sleeping together?”

Surprise rippled through Madara, but he kept his expression in check as his older cousin studied him. However, Mikoto didn’t back down.

“I see the way you both look at each other,” she pressed.

There would be no lying his way out of this one. Mikoto had witnessed the scene in the hallway and he didn’t know what Sakura had told her.

“Since the night Hashirama approached her,” Madara eventually admitted.

Mikoto hummed lightly. “And do you think that a wise decision?”

“I’m not just playing with her.”

“No, you’re not,” she agreed, her tone light but serious. “And that worries me more.”

Madara pursed his lips together, but he didn't back away. He hated that Mikoto had witnessed the exchange between himself and Sakura tonight, and he hated how well his cousin could read through him, but there was nothing he could do. His affections for Sakura were all out on display now.

“Sakura is a strong woman,” Mikoto continued after a few moments of silence, her voice soft. “That much is obvious given tonight’s events. I just worry how much more she can take.”

“It’s a lot of stress, even for one of us,” Madara defended quietly.

His cousin hummed her agreement as she swirled the crimson around in her glass. From here, it was the color of blood. “These next few weeks will reveal if she’s fit for our lifestyle.”

However, Madara shook his head. “I don’t want to bring her any more harm.”

His words caused Mikoto’s hand to still as she peered at him across the counter. A sympathetic smile crossed her face causing her beautiful features to soften. 

“Then you have to put an end to this.”

Madara didn’t reply but Mikoto wasn’t looking for one. She simply finished her glass and stood, only pausing long enough to squeeze his arm comfortingly. Then she was gone, leaving Madara alone to his rolling thoughts.

From the very beginning, Madara knew the day would come when Sakura would return to her old life. She would carry on as one of the city's best trauma surgeons and he would continue to spread his influence through the dark Underground. It was only recently that he had begun to allow himself to hope that she would stay. Not out of necessity, but rather desire. Desire for him and her desire to want to be with him. 

Tonight, however, Madara wondered if that dream had just blown away like dust in the wind right before his eyes.

Somewhere above him, Sakura was resting in her room. It ate at him knowing she wasn’t in his bed; that this morning might very well have been the last time he would feel her soft skin pressed against his, her warmth curled up in his arms as she rested, the world forgotten behind the secure gates of his home. 

But worse than all that was her earlier admission. That she was still afraid.

Alone, Madara allowed his carefully crafted mask to crack. Resting his palms on the counter, he hung his head in defeat. He had promised Sakura only a few short weeks ago that he wouldn’t fail her and tonight, he had done so spectacularly.

But he wouldn’t again.

Stealing himself, Madara straightened his spine again. It was time he fine-tuned the rest of his plan and put it into action. Tobirama would not lay a hand on Sakura again. That much he was certain of.

**_tbc…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the wonderful comments. I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you all enjoy!!
> 
> Also quick note: Sorry, but it might be a hot minute for the next chapter. I'm still trying to work out plot details so hang tight everyone. Plus these long chapters taking a bit to edit. *side-eyes chapter fifteen* Thanks for your patience!! <3
> 
> And as always, special thanks to Moor for all her beta-ing!


End file.
